To Reflect Perfection
by Sir Alwick
Summary: COMPLETE: Inside each of us is our ideal selves, the person whom we most want to see ourselves as. Beast Boy would like more than anything to bring that person to the surface, but what happens when the road to perfection takes a dangerous turn? BBXRAE
1. Chapter 1

_Today will be the day._

Fuzz world. It was what he jokingly called those few seconds between sleep and awake, when your eyes were just starting to readjust and nothing was in focus. Where everything looked like a TV flashback. He'd had a good laugh the morning he'd come up with the notion. One day he'd made mention of it to his teammates- how the topic had come up he couldn't remember. Each of their reactions was predictable. Robin said nothing, Cyborg rolled his eyes, Starfire wished to know more about the world of fuzz, and Raven just called him an idiot and went back to her reading. He regretted saying anything, and though he was hurt no one could tell.

With a series of quick blinks the world of fuzz left him and with an audible stretch, Beast Boy pulled himself into a sitting position, deftly hitting his head on the ceiling in the process- this tended to happen anytime he fell asleep on the top bunk in human form. Cursing his clumsiness and rubbing the now sore spot on his forehead he swung his legs over the side of the bunk and leapt to the floor, making a clumsy baddump noise as he landed. After one more loud stretch he turned to the alarm clock on the bedside table.

"Dude," he cried out in surprise. "What happened?"

His surprise and disappointment came from realizing that it was already quarter to eleven. For him, getting up at this time wasn't unusual, but of course that was the problem. What he had been attempting to do lately was shake a few of his more undesirable traits: one being his reputation as the lazy one on the team. He figured a perfect start would be waking up at a reasonable hour. However, despite setting the alarm the night before, it now dawned on him he must have zombie walked out of bed and turned it off only to immediately stumble back. How he ended up back on the top bunk without waking up was a mystery.

"Maybe I could try putting it farther away," he said aloud to the room as he studied the piece of bedroom equipment in his hands. The room of course said nothing.

Making his way for the bathroom, passing over piles of dirty laundry and random junk as he walked, he caught sight of himself in the mirror. Pausing for a moment he studied his face closely in it's reflective surface. Covering the tips of his ears with his hands he tried to imagine what he would look like if they were rounded again and if maybe they weren't as big. He wondered how much more attractive he would be if his skin was once again its original peach color, if his hair regained it's original blond. Running his tongue over the tips of his fangs he wondered this. Backing up a few steps, so that his entire half naked body filled the mirror, he struck a few halfhearted poses and studied his physique. He had to admit, there had been some improvement since his younger days. Now 18, his body had most definitely matured. He was no longer the shortest member on the team- as of a year or so ago that title had been bestowed upon Raven- and there was now more noticeable tone and definition to his muscles. Yes, there had been improvements, but it wasn't nearly enough to keep him from feeling inadequate. Compared to some, if not most of his superhero brethren- tall handsome men with large, chiseled physiques cut from living stone- he was still small and almost puny.

Dropping to the floor he began doing pushups. He needed to be better. As he thrust himself up, away from the floor, he began imagining himself strong and bold and noble like Superman, cool and confident like Batman. Amongst his own teammates he imagined what he could be like if he had Robin's drive and determination, Starfire's fierceness in battle, Cyborg's computer skills. He then thought of Raven, the reason for which he wanted to be a better hero, and suddenly all his faults seemed bigger.

Halting his pushups he sat on the floor. After a few breaths he stood and again gazed at his reflection. Of course nothing had changed.

* * *

"Hey man, you okay?" asked Cyborg. "You seem distracted."

The metal man had just bested him yet again in Virtua Racers. Beast Boy never won anyway so he wondered why the young man would even notice that he wasn't giving the game his full attention.

"I'm fine," he replied with a big and incredibly forced smile.

Cyborg paused for a moment before speaking again.

"You're not still upset about training yesterday, are you?"

The bionic youth was referring to the fact that the day before Robin had called a sudden training session at the obstacle course. When it came time for his turn, Beast Boy had been quite surprised and even proud to find he actually was doing well. That is of course until he tripped over his own feet at the finish line and had to run the entire thing over again. It was the first time he'd ever cursed Raven for having beautiful eyes.

"Nah, I'm over that," he lied.

He got the sense that Cyborg didn't believe him, but by that point it didn't matter anyway as the swooshing sound of the common room doors filled the room. Beast Boy knew immediately who it was. He also knew that Cyborg knew that so long as she was in the room anything the metallic Titan had to say would fall on pointy deaf ears. Looking over his shoulder, Beast Boy watched as Raven in all her grace and loveliness floated to the kitchen, and began preparing a cup of tea. A broad smile crossed his lips and he heard Cyborg mutter under his breath "Ah, here we go again."

"Look man, it feels like you've been making goo goo eyes at her forever," said Cyborg. "Why don't you just go over there and ask her out already?"

"I am," replied Beast Boy, plainly.

"You are?"

The disbelief was evident in Cyborg's voice and Beast Boy frankly couldn't blame him for doubting him. Ever since he had realized how deep his feelings ran for the violet haired girl- exactly how long ago this was, he wasn't sure- the simple act of talking to her had become quite the difficult task. Not being able to say more than two serious words to her at a time without feeling a crushing wave of nervousness and embarrassment kept his interaction with her down to simple greetings, mindless monosyllabic small talk and of course the necessary banter that comes with battle. The only plus side to this was that the empath came to think that after so many years he was finally giving her the space she wanted and actually thanked him for it. When she said this, despite the fact that it was a golden opportunity to tell her how he felt, he only smiled, nodded and squeaked out a "no problem." One word. Two words.

As he'd been telling himself all morning, however, today was going to be different. Today would be the day. Today he was going to engage Raven in serious conversation and do the hardest thing any teen boy could do apart from jumping off a bridge on a twenty dollar bet: ask the girl he likes on a date.

Slowly he stood, eyes never leaving the violet haired beauty as she carefully filled her cup with steaming tea and sat down at the table.

'It'll be simple,' he kept repeating to himself over and over in his mind. It won't even be a "date" date, just two friends who haven't spent enough time together lately going out and grabbing a bite to eat at that pizza place that they both love so much. Simple.

Her image grew more defined as he approached the kitchen area. Her eyes were glued to a thick and, what Beast Boy assumed to be, very difficult to understand book. Her hood was down, allowing every subtle feature that made up her flawless face to be seen with perfect clarity. Her beautiful violet hair that now fell to her shoulders, her porcelain skin, her soft inviting lips.

For a moment he imagined what it would be like to really be close to her. To run his fingers through her hair, to feel the warmth of her skin pressed against his, to savor the honey-sweet taste of her lips. He immediately felt his pulse quicken and heat rise to his face, and realized he'd have to quickly put those thoughts in check else they make themselves visible.

When upon reaching the table, he saw she still hadn't looked up from her book, he decided to make his presence known.

"Morning Raven."

One word. Two words.

"Good morning," she said.

"What's up?"

Four words. His chest grew hot.

"Not much," she answered, her eyes still in the pages of her book.

An uncomfortable silence passed between them and Beast Boy could instantly feel his hopes of asking her out fading away. Pulling a chair out he took a seat directly across from her, but not before first banging his knee on one of the table legs.

Upon feeling the table shake Raven looked up from her book.

"Are you okay?" she asked.

Despite the throbbing pain in his knee, Beast Boy smiled.

"Fine," he said. "And you?"

Seven words. His palms began to sweat.

She regarded him suspiciously for a moment before saying "fine" and then returning to her book.

Again he could sense he was losing his chance. Thinking quickly he examined the cover of her book.

"That's an interesting title for a book," he said. Fourteen words. He was stuttering slightly. "Is it in another language or something? Fyoder Dostoveskidy? How do you pronounce that? Cause I don't know." Thirty-one words. Now he was babbling and he could feel his hands starting to shake.

"It's Fyodor Dostoyevsky," she replied flatly. "And it's not the title; it's the author."

Looking at the cover of the book again, he could now see in plain English text the words _Crime and Punishment_.

"Right," he said. Thirty-two words. He could feel the heat in his cheeks. He could tell he was blushing like mad and on him it wasn't a good look.

Cursing his stupidity he decided he'd had enough. Forget trying to work his way in with casual conversation. Forget the date even. After months of waiting for the perfect moment, he was finally going to throw caution to the wind and just tell the wonderful girl in front of him how much she meant to him and what he really felt for her.

"Raven," he said. "I need to tell you something."

Thirty-nine words. His heart was pounding against his ribcage.

Her eyes met his. She then carefully set her still open book face down on the table. Folding her hands in front of her she gave him her full attention.

"Yes," she said.

Beast Boy gulped. She had never been this receptive to him before. Not wanting to let another chance at a meaningful relationship with her slip through his fingers he took a deep breath and attempted to focus his thoughts.

"Raven," he began. "You and me…we've known each other for a long time now."

Fifty-two words. His stomach was doing cartwheels.

He looked at her. She gave no response, only stared at him as she patiently waited for him to continue.

"And I mean…you and and me. Well I was just you know wondering… I mean."

Sixty-eight words. The ability to speak was waving goodbye to him from a ferry, leaving him to drown in a sea of awkward vocal fumbling.

Internally smacking himself, he once again attempted to calm his nerves. He saw her eyes now held a small amount of confusion laced with irritation and knew he had to get to the point.

'Just speak from the heart,' he told himself. Looking down at the table he saw her hands still clasped one over the other. Staring intently into her eyes he attempted to reach across the table and touch her slender fingers with his own. He needed her to know his confession was genuine, and he figured this action would help. Unfortunately he had forgotten about her cup of tea that she had set down in front of her.

Screaming, Raven jumped up from the table as scalding hot tea poured into her lap.

"I'm sorry. I'm sorry," Beast Boy babbled.

Seventy-two words. He was in a fighter jet that had just taken a critical hit.

"You idiot!" she yelled angrily, glaring at him.

"I'm sorry," he pleaded again. "I didn't mean to,"

Seventy-eight words. Smoke filled his lungs and fire licked at the wings as he saw the ground rushing up to meet him.

Snatching her book up from the table, she was infuriated to see it was now soaking wet. The pages were already starting to curl and paragraphs were quickly becoming illegible.

"Great," she scoffed.

He struggled to find the right words to rectify the disastrous situation, but alas he was completely speechless. He could only watch as the girl he'd secretly loved for so long threw him one more angry look and stormed out of the common room.

"Sorry," he managed to choke out weakly once she was out of sight.

Seventy-nine words. Impact and a fiery explosion.

Looking back to the couch, he saw Cyborg who, after watching the entire scene, simply shook his head sadly before returning to his game. Hanging his own head in defeat, Beast Boy began cleaning up the spilled tea.

"Maybe tomorrow," he sighed.

_A/N: Well there's the first chapter. Please let me know what you think. Even if you hate it I want to know why. If I'm ever going to be a good writer I need to know where my faults are._


	2. Chapter 2

_Now._

_"All the world's a stage, and all the men and women merely players."_

It was the only bit of Shakespeare that Beast Boy knew apart from _"To be or not to be."_ Of course that one he didn't even really understand. He understood the former though or at least he thought he did. To him, it meant that the city, the country, the world, the universe, life itself was all one big story. A never-ending saga filled with ups and downs and climaxes and subplots and re-imaginings where everyone had his or her part to play. Billions upon trillions of players each with his or her own story. Every story crossing over, intersecting or running parallel to millions of others. Every story lending itself to the main plot forming a incredible web of intersecting plot ties that, when really considered, seemed to suggest that every single being in existence was somehow connected to every one else.

The very idea of something so grand, so epic and so expansive gave Beast Boy a terrible headache. He got the gist of it though. That being that everyone everywhere had a role to play.

A cool wind blew across his face as he dangled his legs off the ledge of the roof of Titan's Tower and gazed at the crashing waves below. It's amazing how much thinking you can get done on a tall enough building.

* * *

_Then._

The tea warmed his hands through the paper towel as he cleaned up his stupid mistake. Throwing the sopping wet mess into the trash, he soon after heard the thumping sound of Cyborg's feet as they made their way from the couch to the kitchen.

"It's okay, Cy," he said, not waiting for whatever words of comfort the metallic titan had in mind. His tone was positive despite how much he hated himself at the moment. With a bright smile on his face, he turned to his metal friend. "Better luck next time, right?"

Cybrog gave no reply as his wrist communicator quickly cut him off with its familiar jingle.

Cue Robin's commanding voice buzzing over the tiny speakers.

Roll set up. The young twenty-year-old leader of the group had been dedicating the majority of his time to investigating a series of unexplained burglaries. An unseen culprit, somehow managing to slip in and out in the middle of the day without ever being seen, was hitting jewelry and retail stores all over Jump City. Robin had sworn he was going to catch him in the act.

Simple, classic plot device.

Flash forward to present. Cue the Boy Wonder finally finding the guilty party. Cue the perpetrator being a little more than he bargained for. Cue the leader of the team calling for assistance.

Beast Boy watched as Cyborg's gaze fell upon him after Robin terminated his end of the link. His only response to the metal man was to give a firm and assured nod. Without words he and Cyborg dashed for the door and began their race for the T-car.

As they made their way to the lower levels of the tower, Beast Boy couldn't help but feel a smile spreading across his face and a familiar feeling of pride. He may not have been the strongest or the smartest or the bravest hero he knew, but he was still part of something great. He was a Teen Titan. He belonged to a group that really made a difference in people's lives. And aside from that, every new emergency and every new battle gave him a chance to prove himself, to prove that, when things looked their bleakest, he could be depended upon.

On their way down the hall, Raven joined them. How exactly she knew they were needed, he wasn't sure. The only thing he was sure of was that the look on her face said she was still mad at him.

Cue deep feelings of hurt.

Jump cut to next scene.

* * *

He didn't know the villain that now stood before him; the one that was currently engaged in battle with Robin and Starfire- the Tameraneanhad been helping Robin in his pursuit that morning and was already on the scene- on the cracked pavement just outside the decimated entrance to a department store. He didn't know him, and yet he knew all about him.

Spend some time in the costumed hero profession you'll learn about villains. Spend some more time and you'll eventually start learning about the other villains, that is, the monsters and madmen that are most of the time off in different cities bothering different heroes. Of course there are no invisible walls keeping these bad guys confined to their own stomping grounds, so every once and a while there is what Beast Boy refers to as spillover.

Enter the monstrous beast they face now. A towering behemoth capable of transforming its hideously disgusting figure into any shape or form desired. He was once an actor who went by the name Matt Hagen. Now, however, according to Batman's extensive computer files, he simply called himself Clayface.

With adrenalin coursing through his system Beast Boy descended to the ground and shifted from a bird back to humanoid form. As Raven landed in front of him and Cyborg pulled up behind him in the T-Car, he plastered a defiant smirk on his face. Show time.

Cue the Amazing Beast Boy. Thrill as he triumphs over evil and your funny bone.

"Dudes, does anyone know why Claybutt is in Jump City? What, was getting wailed on by Batman getting stale?"

The proverbial chirping crickets.

Thoroughly ignoring him, both Raven and Cyborg quickly joined Robin and Starfire in battling the revolting villain. Shoving down his usual disappointment, Beast Boy quickly followed suit.

It would be difficult to describe to a more normal person what it felt like for Beast Boy to battle alongside his fellow Titans. He knew that what he could do was more or less amazing. Being able to turn into any animal he could think of certainly was something that couldn't be easily written off as humdrum. Still, it was hard not to feel insignificant when in the presence of the men and women before him, who battled so bravely and strongly.

It was hard not to be in awe at the sight of Starfire swooping down from the sky, raining a shower of starbolts down upon Clayface's soft, muddy frame, wobbling him. Her ferociousness and tenacity in the face of evil was astounding. Even when the sickening monstrosity blasted her with a generous glob of clay that rocked her lithe frame and deftly stuck her to the side of a building, she wasted no time in blasting the gunk from her body with her eye lasers and immediately rejoining the battle.

Who could not be amazed at the sight of Robin throwing caution to the wind and leaping into action, punishing Clayface with precision thrown exploding discs and several well-placed smacks from his bo staff. The fact that he was the only member of the team without powers took nothing away from the impression he left. He was, after all, the protégé of the legendary Batman. His mind possessed dozens of fighting techniques and strategies, and his body was conditioned to be nothing short of physical perfection. When Clayface went on the attack, every strike met only air as the Boy Wonder was more than capable of nimbly leaping to safety every time.

It was always like this. Whether it was Cyborg blasting an enemy with his arm cannon or Raven's flawless grace as she hovered in the air, levitating massive objects with ease, he always couldn't help but feel inconsequential. It didn't help that he also had a tendency to get easily distracted.

So caught up in marveling at his fellow teammates was he that he failed to notice the brutish Clayface impale a four-door car with a slithering muddy tentacle and send it flying through the air in a desperate attempt to flatten at least one of the costumed heroes that now prevented his escape. That one hero would have been Beast Boy if not for Raven.

"Beast Boy!" she shouted as black energy quickly enveloped the vehicle, stopping it in midair and preventing his crushing death.

His only response was to yelp in surprise as the vehicle stopped within inches of him. After falling onto his rear, he looked up to see Raven hovering above him. The look on her face was mostly angry though he hoped that at least some of it was out of concern.

"Wake up," she shouted at him before setting the vehicle down.

Despite his embarrassment, he felt good knowing that at least she wasn't mad enough at him to let him get crushed by a car.

Getting his head together, he quickly jumped to his feet and joined the battle. After several minutes of intense action he soon found himself face to clay face with the disgusting behemoth.

"Pretty small for a superhero, ain't ya?" mocked Clayface, giving a jagged toothed grin.

Beast Boy only smirked back.

Cue witty retort.

"Tell me, dude. When you go to the spa, do you pass on the mud pack?"

Clayface groaned loudly.

"Jeez, what is with all the awful jokes?"

The changeling was good and ready to come back with the brilliant, "My jokes aren't awful," but before he could he found himself dodging a monstrous claw as it stretched the distance between them and attacked with a deadly swipe. Turning into a chimp, the changeling bounded about the environment, narrowly avoiding every attack. After several near misses he finally found an opening and began his counter attack. Shifting into a wild green bull, he charged the man of mud. Snorting and spitting, with a look pure determination in his eye he closed in on Clayface and braced himself for the wet smack of the impending collision. It never came. Instead he found nothing but air as the shape shifter altered his appearance, opening up a massive hole in his body and allowed the bull shifted Beast Boy to simply plow straight through. Before he knew what happened, the changeling felt the jaw rattling impact of brick as he collided head first with the side of an office building.

Groaning, he instinctively shifted back into humanoid from and rolled onto his back, his head throbbing painfully.

Changeover. Fade to black.

For who knew how long there was only the dull throbbing. Over and over again, steady like a heartbeat. Over and over, pounding like a hammer in his head. Strange colors and shapes projected themselves against his eyelids. There were voices off in the distance. Or were they right next to him? There were crashing sounds. Cries of combat. Was this a battle?

"Beast Boy."

Suddenly the hammering was getting farther away.

"Beast Boy."

The colors and shapes were gone; for a brief instant, it was fuzz world again. Then his vision cleared and fuzz world vanished. Robin now looked down at him from above.

"You okay, Beast Boy?"

"Huh?" he croaked.

Robin smiled and offered him a helping hand.

In an alternate reality, Robin would be that really popular kid in high school who, for some reason, always stuck up for the nerds.

"Don't worry," he said. "We got him."

A quick survey of the environment found a smoldering Clayface lying still in a three foot deep crater, moaning curses. Cyborg was seen, accompanied by some local law enforcement officers, attaching a small electronic device- a condensed version of the power nullifier- to the villain's "flesh."

Beast Boy of course felt relieved. And immediately after, he of course felt embarrassed and more or less useless.

Cue the Amazing Beast Boy. Marvel as he knocks himself unconscious and misses the entire fight.

In an alternate reality, he'd be a window washer.

Still, he refused to dampen what was otherwise a major victory. They had gone toe to toe with a notorious villain from Batman's rouge's gallery and had come out victorious. So, forcing a big smile to his face, he made a thumbs up and gave a hearty, "Titan's go!"

His smile remained. He did his victory dance, he gloated and taunted as Clayface slowly regained consciousness and was loaded into the back of a police van. He wasn't the strongest or the smartest or the bravest, but he was still a Titan. He was still a hero. He laughed when he over heard Clayface grumble that the Joker was "full of crap" and that "it wasn't any easier making a living in Jump City than it was in Gotham." He snickered and chuckled when the villain gave them the usual death threats. He stopped, however, when the man of clay shouted, "You all better watch your backs cause I'll be back to get all of you....including your mascot."

Three guesses who he meant.

_

* * *

_

Now.

"Every team needs a mascot," he told the sky as it passed overhead. He had been periodically telling this to himself ever since he'd gotten back to the tower.

Every ounce of reason in his brain told him to ignore it, that an insult from a villain was as worthless as a two-dollar cell phone. But like a fresh scab, he couldn't let it alone. Was that all he was? The Titan's Mascot? He hadn't been called a mascot since his early days with The Doom Patrol and, though he never told anyone, he hated the label back then too. He had always wanted to be a better hero, but he never doubted for a moment that he _was_ at least _a_ hero. Deciding he no longer wanted to think about it, he simply stated the obvious.

"This day sucked."

* * *

With his hands shoved deep in the pockets of his uniform he trudged through the hallways of the Tower with no real purpose or destination. He probably would have gone on forever had a familiar scent not suddenly found it's way into his nostrils. Looking up he spotted Raven hovering down the halls, making a beeline straight for her room. For a moment he stopped, wondering what he should do. After determining the day couldn't possibly get any worse, he decided to reach out to her.

"Hey Raven," he said walking up to her just as she reached her doorway.

"Hello, Beast Boy," she replied, turning to face him.

There was a moment of silence as the events from earlier began rolling in his head.

"Hey," he said. "I'm really sorry about the tea and the book and-"

She held a hand up to silence him.

"It's okay," she said. "It was an accident. Don't worry about it."

His heart soared and for the first time that day he smiled genuinely. Normally it took at least a day for the violet haired girl to stop holding a grudge, but today she had forgiven him in record time. To anyone else it may have been pathetic, but to him, having Raven so easily forgive him for one of his screw-ups meant a lot. It was then he realized he had to capitalize on this moment.

"Hey, I was just going to…the kitchen," he lied. "Would you like to go to the kitchen also?"

The word "smooth" laced with heavy sarcasm came to mind and he cringed at his awkwardness.

"No thank you," she replied, eyeing him suspiciously. "I'm busy."

"Doing what?"

The words were stacking up. Raging nervousness was starting to well up inside him.

For a moment she said nothing, as if she was debating how much she was going to share with him. Finally.

"I just need to go out and pick up a few things."

"What, like at the grocery store?"

"Not exactly. It's a little more uncommon than that."

Suddenly things were different. For him, genuine curiosity drowned out nervousness evertime. As he studied the girl in front of him, he pondered what she could be implying.

"What do you mean?"

Again she paused, seeming to want to choose her words carefully.

"Well," she began. "I need some magical items, so I'm going to… Well, I guess it's what you'd call a market place for mystics."

"Wow, really? Can I come too?"

Throwing a hand over his mouth he immediately felt the deep pang of regret punch him in the stomach. When he wasn't drowning in nervousness, his growing interest in Raven and her life occasionally caused him to blurt things out despite himself. He could feel his face growing hot as he prepared for painful rejection, but after a second or two he realized the girl in front of him had yet to say no.

After a moment of deep thought she replied.

"Alright."

In an alternate reality where everything was a cartoon, his jaw would have literally hit the floor.

"What?"

"You can come if you want, but stay close to me and do exactly what I say. Understand?"

Gulping, he quickly nodded his head, his smile threatening to take over his entire face. Following her into her room, he once again found himself swooning over her like a lovesick puppy. He couldn't believe she was actually allowing him to spend time with her in her own world.

In an alternate reality she would be a goddess.

* * *

_A/N: Thank you so much for all the great reviews on the last chapter. They were all so kind. Much apologies. I would have gotten this chapter out sooner, but I ended up having to restart it twice before I stopped hating everything I wrote. I hope you all continue to like what I'm doing here. I'm going for something kind of specific with this fic, trying to really set it apart from my other pieces. Like always, let me know what you think. - Sir Alwick_


	3. Chapter 3

Beautiful. By this point in human history the word has almost become a cliché. With all the poetry, all the paintings and sculptures, and the countless soliloquies in plays, it would appear there couldn't possibly be any meaning left in the word anymore. The fact that it's tirelessly touted in our everyday lives does nothing to help. It's not enough that everyone has a beautiful wife and beautiful kids. They also have a beautiful house, a beautiful car, a beautiful boat, beautiful lawn, beautiful kitchen, couch, floor, door knobs, toaster, spoons, penny collection, cooking apron with the words "Hail to the Chef" stitched in. How could a word that's been so carelessly attached to such frivolities possibly have any truth left in it?

For Beast Boy, the answer to that question was simple. Yes, there was still truth to be found in beauty. Because in his life of action, danger, turmoil, television, comic books and tofu-to-go there was only one thing he would dare call beautiful. And it wasn't because she was a beautiful girl, though she most definitely was. No, there was more to it than that. She was more than just a beautiful girl. She was a beautiful person. The only tragedy was that she never seemed to believe it herself. And that was where he hoped to come in.

Now was the time. As she sat under the calming light of a full moon, her sparkling amethyst eyes shining like diamonds, he knew he could wait no longer to tell this wonderful girl, this beautiful person how he felt.

"Raven," he began, her name sweet on his tongue. "There's something I've been meaning to tell you."

"What?" she whispered, her face masked with apprehension.

Closing his eyes, he hesitated for only a moment before swallowing his fear and continuing.

"I like you, Raven. A lot," he said, gently taking her hands in his. "Hell, I think I may even be in love with you."

For several seconds after his confession neither one of them said anything, choosing instead to simply stare into one another's eyes.

His heart was racing as he attempted to read her thoughts. Her eyes seemed to reflect shock and surprise, but he wasn't sure if there was joy as well. He felt his heart sink when she suddenly looked down to the ground.

"That's not true," she said sadly. "How could you possibly love me?"

Cue his turn for shock and surprise.

"How could I possibly love you?" he echoed. "How could I possibly not?"

Gently he raised her chin so once again their eyes met.

"Raven, you're everything I could possibly want. I mean you're smart, brave, strong." A smile spread across his face. "You're beautiful and believe it or not you're really funny."

At that she couldn't help a disbelieving smile.

"Funny?" she said.

"Sure, he said. "I mean most of your material is at my expense, but it's really good."

He could feel his confidence growing as her smile widened ever so slightly. A deep silence overcame them and suddenly he could feel his lips begin gravitating towards hers. To his unfathomable joy he could see her starting to do the same, and the distance between their faces became inches. He could feel his blood surging through his body as his pulse quickened. Centimeters now. He could feel the warmth of her body as she pressed into him. Millimeters. A spark shot through him as his lips…

"Beast Boy!"

He had a tendency to get distracted.

Suddenly the romantic moonlit scene was ripped from existence and quickly replaced with the dark gothic architecture of Raven's room where the girl now stood before him, her arms crossed against her chest and her foot tapping impatiently against the ground.

"Did you hear anything I said?"

He chuckled nervously and rubbed the back of his head with his hand.

"Uh, most of it," he said with a smiling nervousness. "At least everything until "What I'm about to say is very important."

Raven rolled her eyes, but showed no signs of lost patience. Continuing her work, minus the exasperated sigh he came to expect from her whenever he said something stupid, she again began explaining the rules and cautions of their trip.

"You are going to see a lot of strange things," she said, popping the cork off a glass bottle with a wide bottom. Into her hand she then poured a small amount of what appeared to be purple colored sand and then scattered it about the carpet in front of them.

"I ask that you please try extra hard to control that side of you that makes you react before thinking."

Retrieving another bottle from the shelf, she quickly poured the contents into a large bowl held firmly in her other hand. Several more strange looking bottles and containers were then emptied into the bowl.

"This place is home to some very powerful mystics and not all of them are what you would call friendly. Many of them would not hesitate to a teleport you to a dimension of pure itching."

At that he couldn't resist wrinkling his nose in disbelief.

"Pure itching?"

She nodded.

"Imagine a universe where you're just really itchy all the time over every inch of your body."

"There are worlds like that?"

"Yes."

"Wow. That's really silly."

"I know. It disturbs me too."

Rocking the bowl in her hands in a gentle circular motion, she mixed the contents into a swirl of multicolored powder.

"But if you keep your head down and mind your own business," she continued. "You'll be fine."

"So I leave them alone; they'll leave me alone?"

"Exactly."

He watched as she closed her eyes and began waving her hand over the bowl of ingredients, a string of silent words flowing from her lips. Suddenly the bowl was ignited in blue flame. After letting it burn for a second or two, she nonchalantly extinguished it, blowing on it like one would a birthday candle. Then, slowly pouring the contents, she made a circle roughly five feet in diameter on the carpet.

As Beast Boy watched her make the appropriate preparations a smile came to his face.

"You…you must have to vacuum a lot," he smirked, stammering slightly

"You have no idea," she said, smirking back.

He smiled and his heart beat faster. He was nervous like always, but still he couldn't be happier. This was exactly what he had wanted earlier, just to talk with Raven without making a total fool of himself. And with each pleasant exchange he could feel his confidence growing.

With great interest he watched as she made the last preparations and then stepped into the circle.

"Okay," she said. "Now take my hand."

Panic. Confidence gone, abducted by aliens.

His pulse quickened as she held out a hand to him, and once again he could feel his nerves getting the best of him.

"Uh what?" he stammered. He couldn't recall a time where she actually wanted him to touch her.

"Take my hand and step into the circle," she said clearly. "I can't take you with me unless we're making physical contact. Now come on."

Not wanting to send the wrong message and perhaps make her think he was somehow repulsed at the idea of touching her, he quickly accepted her hand and stepped into the circle. Her hand was now firmly clasped in his and her chest was mere inches away.

In an alternate reality they'd be standing under the moonlight, gazing into each other's eyes.

He could feel his face growing hot as he watched her eyes close and her chakra begin glowing with a supernatural light. The circle then began glowing with the same light. The air took on a strange quality and he felt as though he were suddenly becoming lighter.

* * *

"Woah," gasped Beast Boy. In spite of the incredible spectacle before him it was all he could bring himself to say.

It was unlike anything he'd ever seen before. Then again, that wasn't entirely true. Truthfully it was very much like what he'd seen before, that is with a few minor differences.

The "market for mystics" as Raven had called it, seemed like an amalgam of several different time periods and geographical locations all mixed together, intermingling to create a completely unique environment. Cobblestone streets and quaint corner stores with big window-shopping widows, side by side with sandy open-air fairgrounds complete with dozens of tents and stands all set up in a fashion that resembled a bazaar. The greenest trees, tall and majestic sprang up from the ground seemingly at random. Half the sky was black as night while the other half was bright blue day. The sun and the moon rested side by side in a jaw dropping display of impossibility. Everywhere life forms of all different sizes colors and species walked the streets. Knee high toll like creatures would shuffle past your feet while eight-foot tall ogres with green skin and yellow eyes lumbered by above you. Half human half-bird creatures chatted idly with pale, pointy-eared humanoids with eyes as black as their hair.

"It's quite a lot to take in, isn't it?"

Turning to the sound of her voice, Beast Boy looked into her eyes and offered a small nervous smile. His heart beat faster.

"Yeah," he said.

Once the initial shock of the spectacle had subsided they got down to business. Or rather, Raven got down to business while Beast Boy simply followed behind doing everything he could to keep to himself while simultaneously continuing to marvel at the world around him. It wasn't easy, but he managed to maintain a certain level of cool. Not once did he blurt out in surprise though several times he wanted to.

From tent to tent, quirky store to quirky store they went as she made purchase after purchase. Little bottles filled with unidentifiable liquids and powders, strange looking statuettes, ancient looking books written in indefinable languages, all the little knick-knacks that filled up Raven's room were found here and everything she bought went into a small black bag that never seemed to get any more full. Everything was sold by humanoids with reptilian eyes, hairless women with no mouths who spoke through thoughts and all manner of bizarre creatures once thought only to exist in stories. But as amazing as everything was he still found it hard to get his mind off of her.

It was after about the sixth shop as they were walking down a narrow cobblestone ally way when he realized he had fallen back into his old habit of remaining deathly quiet while around her. Gathering his strength, he decided he was finally going to make his move. He had done what he was told and kept a low profile, but he couldn't let another opportunity to ask Raven out slip by again. After a small gulp, he spoke.

"Raven," he said. "Thanks for letting me come along while you did this." He spoke cautiously, acting as if the words themselves might burn his tongue if he did not.

"It's no big deal," she replied, eyes remaining transfixed on the path in front of her.

"No, you're wrong," he said. "It is a big deal."

Gradually her eyes left the path and rested on him while the two continued walking.

"I mean its not like we spend a lot of time together." As he continued his gaze fell to the ground, afraid that if it met hers he would lose all his courage. "And this place is…well it's something that's part of you, I guess. And, like, you're sharing it with me. And to me that means a lot. So thank you."

After he'd finished he chanced looking up and immediately his eyes met hers. To his surprise he found they were warm and inviting even if the rest of her face remained stoic and passive.

"You're welcome, Beast Boy," she said.

He smiled. Her words and her warm, beautiful eyes filled him with renewed life. He could feel his courage replenishing itself, giving him a high he wished he could ride forever. But he knew it wouldn't last. If he were going to use it, it would have to be now.

"Raven," he said. "Do you think maybe after we're done here you might want to-"

"Wait," she said suddenly.

"Wait?" he said, his echo coming as a question.

Stopping dead in their tracks he followed her gaze to a small foreboding store that lay at the end of the alleyway.

Looking back to her he saw that her eyes had lost their warmth and instead were now deep in thought.

"Raven?" he asked.

Cue awkward silence.

"Listen, Beast Boy," she said finally. "You've done a great job at following my instructions-"

He could feel himself blushing.

"-and it's really important that you keep following them when we go in this store."

"What's so special about this place?"

"The owner's a little…well, he's a lot shady and for lack of a better word…he's a bastard. I don't really like dealing with him but unfortunately he's the only supplier for what I need. So, please just be careful."

He gave an understanding nod.

"Sure, I understand."

"Good," was all she said before resuming her trek.

As he watched her walk away he sighed. Yet another missed opportunity.

* * *

The familiar ding of a bell greeted his ears as the door to the shop swung open. At first glance it was much like all the others he had been in that day. Wooden floorboards creaked beneath his feet and a glass counter rested in front of him, housing dozens of odd-looking amulets and trinkets. More filled up several large book shelves and still more hung on the walls along with dozens of sharp pointed weapons and instruments. The only difference seemed to be that unlike the other shops this one was unkempt and had a general feeling of neglect. Everything was dusty and several of the glass display cases had large cracks stretching the length of them. There were remnants of various unidentifiable stains on the floorboards and in some spots there even seemed to be evidence of scorching.

Cue bad feelings.

The shop appeared to be empty but Raven was undeterred. Swiftly she crossed the floor of the shop, stopping just in front of the empty counter, empty that is save for a solitary service bell. Opening her palm she deftly gave the bell a firm tap eliciting a clear ding from the tiny instrument.

Cue silence.

Again she tapped and again there was another clear ding and again there followed nothing but silence.

Her face was stoic, but as always her eyes betrayed her. It was clear she was losing patience.

Raising her hand she tapped the bell a third time. Then a fourth time. Fifth time. Sixth time. All in shorter and shorter order until finally.

"Holy, holy, holy! Whoever's beating on that bell, if you want to keep your fingers you better be gone in the next ten seconds."

From somewhere in the back of the shop a voice came to the front. It was gruff and scratchy with just a hint of phlegm; the kind of voice that could only come from years of substance abuse and bitter loneliness.

"One!" the voice counted. "Two, three, six, ten!"

In an instant the set of curtains behind the counter whipped open and the owner joined the voice.

He was short, unable to even break the five foot barrier, and also quite round. Neither one of his eyes looked straight ahead, rather they veered off in completely opposite directions, giving him the appearance of a chameleon. There were dozens of lines on his face and gravity pulled at his cheeks, giving him a very pronounced set of jowls, and upon first erupting through the curtains, they now had a deep scowl plastered to them.

"Oh hell. It's you again," he said flatly, his scowl remaining.

"Hello, Slaven," said Raven.

"Well," he said. "You still look like crap."

Beast Boy's eyes widened in shock before narrowing in anger. Before he could find words however, the newly identified Slaven fixed him with his gaze.

"What? Did you buy an elf or something? What in the blue hell is that? An elf?"

"I'm not an elf," said Beast Boy, the words coming out far less intimidating than he intended.

"Yeah, yeah, that's what all the elves say. Elf."

Beast Boy could feel himself losing his cool. Raven must have sensed this too as she turned and gave him a stern but calming look.

"I'm here for that pickup you promised me," she said, turning back to the cranky storeowner.

"Yeah, yeah," he griped. "How much did we agree upon? Five hundred, right? We agreed upon five hundred?"

"Nice try. It was two hundred."

"What? No way would I ever agree to a price that low for Gorgon's breath. Do you have any idea how hard it is to come by that stuff? I won't go any lower then three fifty. That stuff ain't easy to come by."

"Cry me a river, Slaven. The price we agreed on or I go elsewhere."

For several intense seconds the two glared at one another. Or rather Raven glared at him while he glared at a bookcase and a wall of weapons.

"Two fifty," declared Slaven finally.

"Fine," said Raven.

Beast Boy couldn't help smiling. The way she handled herself, she never stopped amazing him.

"Stuffs in the back. I'll go get it."

"Hold on. Before I'm buying anything I want to see it for myself."

"What? Don't trust me?"

She fixed him with a cold stare.

"Not in the least," she said.

Slaven grumbled.

"Fine. Fine, fine, fine."

Wearing a very unhappy expression, Slaven marched back to the curtains and roughly threw them open.

Beast Boy smiled as Raven's gaze fell on him as she gave him the tiniest of smirks before making her way toward the back room. He was already to follow her lead but as soon as he took one step Slaven's craggily voice again penetrated his ears.

"Ho, ho, hold it. The elf can stay here. He ain't got nothing to do with this. The elf can stay here and practice his elf things."

Again Beast Boy frowned.

In an alternate reality, he would already be in a world of itching.

Keeping his mouth shut, he silently grit his teeth. Raven quickly turned to him but before she could say a word he gave her a simple understanding nod, letting her know he had not forgotten what she had told him. She nodded approvingly back, and he watched as the two made their way to the back room. He was now alone with nothing to do but wait.

And wait, and wait and wait was all he did. Seconds slowly, slowly, slowly ticked by. Each tick indicated by the dull click, click, click of a massive clock that stood in the corner of the shop. Every click turning into seconds, turning into minutes. In the midst of his waiting he began counting. He counted everything hanging on the walls. Click, click, click. Then he began counting the cracks in the floorboards. Click, click, click. After a while he realized he wasn't counting anything anymore; he was just counting. The unending click, click, click.

Upon this realization he sighed heavily and began slowly approaching the curtain. At first his steps were casual but as he got closer they became more cautious. Finally, standing just in front of the purple cloth he slowly leaned forward and his head poked through.

It turned out the back room was far bigger than he could have ever predicted. He couldn't tell how far back it was to the wall, but he guessed it had to be at least a mile long. Everywhere in every direction the floor was filled with stacks and stacks of boxes and books and containers, giving it the appearance of a massive warehouse. Statues of all sizes sprang up randomly throughout the landscape, including one that was ten feet tall and seemed to be nothing more than a massive head.

Figuring he would undoubtedly get lost he was ready to turn back when his ears twitched and an ever so faint sound caught his attention. It was so soft, he couldn't quite tell what it was, but he would have sworn it sounded like someone calling his name. Looking cautiously from side to side he slowly stepped through the curtain. Slowing his breathing, his ears rose on his head as he struggled to rehear the voice. Unsure of whether he was actually hearing it, he began to walk. With each step, nothing grew louder and he wondered if he was truly following anything. Still he couldn't shake the feeling that yes, he was going the right way. Yes, he was heading in the right direction.

After about a minute of cautious stepping and listening he stopped. Turning to his right, amongst all the piles of boxes he saw it. Amongst all the books and whatnot, there was some kind of structure, only slightly taller than him covered by a large maroon colored sheet. After taking another cautionary look around him he slowly approached the mystery item. With each step he took he could feel the strange sensation he'd been following get louder and stronger. He could feel it growing inside his chest. Carefully he raised a hand to the maroon colored cloth. Every ounce of common sense was screaming at him to stop, turn around, to remember what Raven told him, but still he continued. He gripped the cloth in one hand and in one quick movement he liberated the item underneath. His eyes opened wide as he suddenly found himself staring at…himself.

Shaking his head he took a few steps backward and realized the mystery item was nothing more than a mirror.

"Huh," he grunted with disappointment.

Suddenly unsure of what to do he began studying himself like he had done so earlier in his bathroom. He fixed his hair and quietly examined all the facets one always studies about themselves when looking in a mirror, all the little facets that one can do nothing to change.

Suddenly his ears twitched again and this time he was sure of what he heard. Raven and Slaven, their voices were getting louder, undoubtedly on their way back to the front of the store.

A wave of panic washed over him, filling his lungs, making it hard to breath. He couldn't be caught nosing around. Raven couldn't find out he had broken her rules. He had to beat them back to the front of the store.

Quickly and sloppily throwing the cloth back over the mirror, he turned to make his way back. However, it was then that he realized he didn't know where that was.


	4. Chapter 4

_Now._

"If I had known you were going to act this way I never would have allowed you to come in the first place."

Her beautiful eyes were narrow and angry as she marched purposefully down the hallway, intent on getting as far away from him as possible.

"Hey, you're the one who's blowing this all out of proportion. Don't try to pin it all on me," he spat in defiance as her anger continued to fuel his own. Meanwhile he inwardly cringed at each bitter word that escaped his lips. It was true what people said about there being thin line.

In an alternate reality he was holding her in his arms.

"I am NOT blowing this out of proportion," she shot back whirling around on her heels so that they were once again face-to-face. "You're just behaving like a first class asshole."

The sweet aroma that was unmistakably her was filling his nostrils as he gently ran his fingers up and down the small of her back.

"Well, I guess you would know," he griped, crossing his hands in front of his chest.

He was telling her he loved her, telling her how so very special she was to him as he pressed his lips softly to her forehead leaving a gentle kiss on her chakra.

"What's that supposed to mean?" she shot back, mirroring his action.

The warmth of her body, the firm and soft pressed against his, exciting him as his lips found hers, sealing together, promising.

"You're the smart one. You figure it out."

In an alternate reality he said only what he meant.

For a long time neither spoke, and a cold, bitter silence overtook the hallway. Finally, unable to take anymore he turned away from her and began a long painful walk back towards his room, the lonely clopping sound of his footsteps echoing off the walls as he went. With each step he could feel his anger fading and being replaced with the deepest regret.

"Beast Boy."

He stopped.

Her voice.

He could feel his resolve cracking. It wasn't in him to bear facing the young woman again so instead he simply stood and waited for her to continue.

"Garfield," she said. "If there's something you need to say, say it."

* * *

_Then._

His breathing came quick and shallow as his eyes darted about the environment looking for any sign of the purple curtains that led out of the back room to the front of the store. Everywhere he looked, however, miscellaneous stacks of whatnot were all he saw. With his mind working over time, he began traversing the cluttered environment, attempting to retrace his steps, but with walls of debris everywhere he looked it was much akin to solving a maze under duress. Had he really wandered so far? It had felt as if he'd only taken a few steps. Quickly morphing into a fly- fear of being spotted keeping him from turning into anything bigger- he flew above the junk to get a better view of his surroundings. Unfortunately in ever direction everything was the same. He couldn't tell where he'd come in. He couldn't even tell which direction he'd initially come from.

Panicked, he began buzzing back and forth, zigzagging over the piles. Nothing was helping. Nothing was familiar.

As his tiny wings hummed, he cursed himself in his fly brain.

'Why couldn't you just do what you're told?' he chided. 'What's the matter with you? You knew this would happen and you did it any way. I am SO disappointed in you.'

In an alternate reality a grownup version of him was scolding his five-year-old self while he hung his head in shame.

Finding the frantic buzzing to and fro completely useless he settled down in between two walls of boxes and dropped on his rear. Perking his ears up he listened for Raven's and Slaven's voices. They were coming from somewhere behind him though he couldn't quite tell in what direction they were heading. It seemed to only be a matter of time now before they realized he wasn't where he should be.

Roll best-case scenario. He finds his way back before anyone notices he's gone. Raven praises his ability to stay out of trouble, realizes he's perfect for her, she falls madly in love with him, they get married, have 2.3 kids and live happily ever after.

Roll worst-case scenario: Raven finds out he disobeyed her, shuns him for the rest of his life, he gets booted from the Titans, ends up homeless on the street and dies a cold, friendless virgin at the age of 62.

Beast Boy was a man of extremes.

Letting out a defeated sigh he propped his elbows up on his knees and placed his head in his hands. He felt awful and more so he felt unsure what to even do with himself. He ran his fingers through his hair, mussing it and occasionally pulling at it in frustration. Soon his breathing slowed, and everything was quiet. Then he heard it.

Click, click, click.

His back straightened, and he raised his head. His ears twitched as he struggled to focus them on the sound.

Click, click, click.

The clock. It was the ticking of the old clock in the front of the store.

A new feeling of hope surged through him and he quickly jumped to his feet. Oftentimes he had found himself cursing his big ears, but now, during times like this he was thankful that they at least served a practical purpose.

Closing his eyes, he listened. If he could only determine which direction the clicking was coming from. Slowly he turned his head from side to side. Where was the sound loudest? The voices behind him were growing closer. He listened harder. Which direction? If only he could tell.

"There."

The word escaped his lips as an excited whisper as he aimed his body and morphed back into a fly. Trying to keep his path as straight as possible, he flew over piles and piles of junk. After a while he stopped. Again he morphed into humanoid form and again he listened. The ticking was indeed louder. He slowly turned his head and flexed his ears. Left. It was left.

The voices edged closer.

Morphing into a mouse he quickly dashed between rows of boxes as quick as his little mouse feet could carry him. As he sprinted through the cardboard forest his mind raced.

'I can make it,' he chanted in his brain like a prayer, over and over. 'I can make it. I can make it.'

Then he saw it, a small clearing and behind it: salvation. To his little color-blind mouse eyes they were a dark, drab grey, but still he recognized them. They were the dark purple curtains, the ones he'd first passed through to get himself into this mess.

With a little victory squeak he made a mad dash for the exit. After entering the clearing he began to morph. He grew and restructured and once again became Beast Boy as he raced for freedom. Throwing back the curtains, he vaulted over the glass counter with all the grace of an Olympic gymnast. He then of course crashed to the wooden floorboards with all the grace of a piece of wood thrown from a second story window.

Laying on the floor and clutching his side, he groaned. Despite his pain he still found it in him to smile. A quick survey of the store found that he was alone. He had made it. Rolling onto his back he let loose a relieved sigh and after that a light chuckle. He marveled that despite his foolishness he'd managed to still be somewhat clever in the end. In short he felt good.

"Beast Boy?"

In his relief he had forgotten. Pulling himself into a sitting position he quickly spotted Raven and Slaven standing behind the counter, the freshly opened curtains still swaying gently behind them.

"Uh, hey," he said, desperately tying to hide his nervousness. From the look on Raven's face he wasn't so sure he was succeeding.

For a moment she didn't speak then…

"What are you doing on the floor?"

He looked down at his position. Sitting on his rear, his legs were spread out in front of him and slightly bent. Considering this and coupled with the fact that his hair was messy and he was sweating profusely he quickly came up with a response.

"I was…doing sit-ups?"

Raven arched an eyebrow.

"Sit-ups?" she replied questioningly.

"Yeah," he said nodding quickly and smiling. "Sit-ups. These rock hard abs don't make themselves you know."

There was a pause. Then a wave of relief washed over him at the sight of Raven's signature eye roll as she flatly replied, "Whatever."

Slaven only harrumphed before snidely grunting, "Elves."

* * *

Leaving the store, Beast Boy was walking on air. He had made up for one of his bonehead mistakes and avoided what could have been a major disaster for his potential love life. He felt good. He felt smart. Above all else he felt confident.

"That's everything," said Raven suddenly as the two exited the ally way and stepped onto the main streets. "We can head back now."

"Cool," proclaimed Beast Boy with a smile on his face.

A thought then suddenly occurred to him as he looked from one side of the street to the other.

"Uh, how exactly do we do that?" he asked, giving his head a thoughtful scratch.

"It's not hard," she replied. "We just have to go back to where we first entered and I'll take care of the rest."

"Oh," he said. He again looked around him and again scratched his head.

"Don't worry," replied Raven, her voice only slightly condescending. "I know where we're going."

He gave an innocent smile in return and once more the two resumed their trek down the cobblestone streets. As they walked a silence overcame them, though this time there was something comforting about it.

In an alternate reality, it was opening night of a big performance. The stage was set. No longer was he playing the role of the clown. Now he was the star and Raven was his fellow lead. It was his cue. All he had to do was remember his lines.

"Beast Boy?"

Raven's sudden call instantly pulled him away from the stage and back to his current reality.

"Yeah?"

"I just wanted to tell you, you were… surprisingly good company today."

The blood rushed to his cheeks as a sudden flood of emotions overcame him. He smiled and rubbed the back of his head absent-mindedly. This was it. This was the exact moment he'd been waiting for. She was happy, he was confident and they were alone. Back in the theatre the audience was seated, the curtains were drawn, and the female lead was in position. It was time for the male lead, the love interest of the story to make his entrance.

Enter…

"Raven."

"Huh?"

His ears twitched at the sound of Raven's name rising above the muddled murmur of the marketplace. Distracted from his thoughts he turned to Raven to see if she had heard it as well. Her appearance led him to believe she hadn't, but then came a second call.

"Raven."

The voice came louder then before, this time catching Raven's attention as well. Simultaneously the two turned in the direction of the call. Though Beast Boy would never claim to be a psychic, the sight of the young man approaching them was enough to tell him he wasn't going to happy with what was about to follow.

At over six feet tall, the stranger seemed to lord over him. Every one of his facial features was in complete and perfect proportion and not a single blemish could be found on his smooth, pale skin. His long, snow-white hair was neatly pulled into a masculine ponytail. Not a hair was out of place, that is, except for a single strand that arced elegantly down the front of his forehead, giving him a supermodel-esque look. The dark silver armor told him the man was a knight of some sort and though it somewhat hid his physique, it wasn't difficult to tell a well-developed, muscular frame dwelled underneath. Putting it bluntly: he was gorgeous.

"Darion," said Raven, her voice possessing a pleasantness that Beast Boy was certain he'd never heard before. "Nice to see you again."

Beast Boy could hardly believe his embarrassingly pointed ears. He threw a quick glance to the violet haired girl next to him. Her face was just as passive as always, but the look in her eyes told a different story. To him she might as well have been winking and giving a "come hither" smile for all the warmth he saw in those amethyst orbs.

"It is good to see you as well," replied the handsome newly identified Darion, his lips pulling back to reveal a perfectly straight set of pearly whites brought together in the form a brilliant million dollar smile. "And how does this day find you?"

Darion's voice was strong and noble and he annunciated each word with a smooth and sure eloquence.

Beast Boy grit his teeth and groaned inwardly. 'He was already breathtakingly handsome, couldn't he at least have a speech impediment to balance things out?'

"I have no complaints," replied Raven. "Disregarding the fact that I just got done haggling with Slaven."

Darion's chuckle was smooth and dignified.

"I don't envy you there," he said. "When it comes to money, truly that man has a will of iron and a grip like a vice."

Beast Boy could feel irritation welling up inside of him as another look towards Raven revealed yet another flash of warmth radiating from her lovely eyes.

"And who is your companion?" came Darion again.

"This is Beast Boy," replied Raven. The dry tone in her voice was the same as always, but it hurt especially much during that particular moment.

Thoroughly intimidated Beast Boy could suddenly feel new apprehension rising up inside of him like an uneasy tide. A previously unrealized dislike for the "boy" part of his moniker jabbed his ego painfully.

"Call me Garfield…I mean Gar," he said, his voice squeaking comically much to his dismay.

"It is a pleasure," said Darion.

The young man then extended a hand, which Beast Boy felt, much to his chagrin, he had no choice but to accept. Shoving down his contempt for the young man he worked up the best fake grin he felt himself capable of and shook hands. Deep down he hoped this to be the end, that this Darion was simply passing by, a casual acquaintance who simply wished the say "hello" before moving on to whatever it was he was in the middle of doing before he decided to show up and give him a whole new feeling of inadequacy. He was of course completely wrong.

"Raven, my dear, I hate to be rude but I was wondering if I may speak to you in for a moment."

Before she could answer, Beast Boy found his mouth taking control of his brain.

"We were actually just about to leave," he blurted suddenly, his voice possessing the slightest hint of hostility.

"Beast Boy," hissed Raven. After throwing him a disapproving glance she turned to Darion and nodded in agreement.

The conversation then proceeded into completely unknown territory for Beast Boy. Darion wanted Raven's first hand expertise on things that went way beyond anything he could really comprehend. Names, places, techniques, and all manner of current events concerning magic and things he had no clue about became the topic of conversation.

It was opening night of the big production and he had just been replaced by a more talented, more attractive lead. Again he was the clown.

As the two continued to banter back and forth, Beast Boy could feel his emotions fluxuating inside of him. As his eyes looked from Darion to Raven looking at Darion, he could feel anger growing inside him. Pure directionless anger. Anger for the sake of being angry. Finally he could take no more.

"Jeez you ask a lot of questions. Don't you know anything?" he broke in suddenly, fixing his eyes on Darion and abruptly ending the conversation.

"Beast Boy," gasped Raven suddenly, surprised at his outburst.

"Why doesn't this guy just read a book or something he wants to know stuff so bad? And anyway I thought we were leaving. I want to get back to the tower; I'm sick of this place."

The look on her face told him she was stunned, angry and maybe even a little hurt, but at that point he didn't care. Nothing else mattered to him. He just wanted to get as far away as he could possibly go, from Darion, from Raven, from everyone. He just wanted to go home.

Frowning at Beast Boy, Raven bid a short but polite farewell to Darion, who seemed at a loss for words. The two Titans then began what would be a long and uncomfortable walk back to the exit.

* * *

The air grew light and then suddenly returned to normal as Beast Boy once again found himself back in Raven's room. The girl herself was currently glaring daggers at him.

"Okay," she said suddenly. "Mind telling me what that was all about?"

Of course Beast Boy knew what she was referring to. They hadn't spoken a word during the whole walk back to the exit, but the topic was still fresh in both their minds. Riled up at the sight of Darion's image suddenly appearing in his minds eye, he once again could feel his directionless anger swelling up, anger at Darion, at Raven and at himself.

"Ah, that guy was a jerk," he spat, his voice caustic and sort of immature.

"He's my friend," said Raven, taking exception to his remark.

"If he's your friend, why haven't you ever told me about him?"

"I haven't told anyone about him."

"Right, you never tell us anything. How long have we known each other? And you're still keeping secrets and stuff?"

Part of directionless anger is that it keeps you from staying on topic. Anything you've ever been angry about seems to come out in one sudden burst.

"I let you come on this trip with me, didn't I?" she shot back.

He crossed his arms in front of his chest and tuned away slightly.

"There's something fishy about that douche anyway. I don't trust him."

"Well, can't you trust me when I say he's a friend of mine and _I_ trust him."

"Well, I would, but you're not exactly the best judge of character."

With directionless anger it becomes almost impossible to make a decent point.

"Maybe I'm not. I became friends with you, didn't I?"

She chose that moment to abruptly push past him and out into the hallway. She could have just as easily told him to get out of her room but in the heat of things she found herself just wanting to get as far away as possible. Beast Boy, however, would not be left behind.

"I'm not done talking about this," he shouted as he followed her down the hallway.

"If I had known you were going to act this way I never would have allowed you to come in the first place."

"Hey, you're the one who's blowing this all out of proportion. Don't try to pin this all on me."

"I am NOT blowing this out of proportion," she said turning to face him. "You're just behaving like a first class asshole."

"Well I guess you would know."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"You're the smart one. You figure it out."

Reluctantly he turned his back on her and began what would be an agonizing march back to his room. As he walked he could already feel his heart begin aching as it drowned out the anger.

"Beast Boy."

Her voice.

"Garfield," she said. "If there's something you need to say, say it."

He knew what she meant, what she wanted. She was looking for the truth. The truth he had now himself just realized. That he loved her. Not just liked her; not just was attracted to her, but actually loved her. Loved her enough that the thought of her being with anyone else but him drove him crazy. He wanted nothing more than to tell her this. But he couldn't. Because in an alternate reality she may love him back, but such was not the case for this one. What she wanted wasn't him. He was a clown. He was a mascot, and despite how much he wished he could be that guy, he knew he never would. So, he remained silent and kept the truth to himself as he continued walking. Like she never even spoke, he continued the slow defeated walk back to his room.


	5. Chapter 5

It was here amongst the piles of clothes and random junk; amongst the leftover pizza boxes and miscellaneous childhood toys; between the green walls with the aqua carpeting, that he always felt some semblance of peace. It was quite literally his green room; a place where he could just stop, leave the world be, let it go on without him until he was ready to reenter.

Beast Boy is leaving the set for a moment. He will return shortly.

Lying on his bottom bunk, staring up at the bottom of the top bunk, he could feel a dull burning in his chest. He had felt it ever since he'd gotten back from he and Raven's trip, and he wondered if, like the cliché went in so many tired love songs, his heart were indeed breaking.

'She hates me.'

It was the thought, the singular thought, that currently preoccupied him and absolutely refused to dissipate into the nothingness where thoughts usually went when they were no longer needed.

'She hates me.'

Like a terrible, chart topping, number one single, it traveled the airwaves of his mind, irritating him; making him cringe every time he heard it, causing him to curse the party responsible for its creation.

'She hates me.'

Of course the real tragedy was that he had no one to blame but himself.

'She hates me.'

He felt terrible for blowing up at Raven the way he had. It wasn't her fault he wasn't the kind of guy she wanted. It wasn't her fault he wasn't strong and handsome and smart and eloquent and perfect. It wasn't her fault.

'She hates me.'

He loved her. Even if she didn't love him back, even if she couldn't love him back, he didn't want her to hate him.

Walking down the hallway, she had called out to him, and though he hadn't stopped he'd wanted. So many thoughts running through his head. So many things he yearned to have the strength or the guts or whatever was needed to say to her.

'You're incredible. It means so much to me to have you as a friend. You inspire me to be better. You're the reason I'm still here. I love you, Raven.'

But out of everything, what he most wanted to say:

"I'm sorry."

But he didn't have the strength or the guts or whatever was needed, and instead he continued his pitiful march down the hallway to his room. He knew, however; his actions still warranted her an apology and he would do his best to give it to her in the morning. Right now, though, he couldn't bear to face the world, much less her.

Not raising his head he turned and faced the alarm clock on his dresser. At 7:37 it was still early, too early for bed. Too early to sleep, and yet leaving his room was not an option. So instead he sat up, swung his legs over the side of the bed and got to his feet.

For a few moments, he simply stood, staring into nothingness. His eyes wandered about his room, passing over all its random contents and yet never really looking at anything. Despite many pledges to do so, he never did clean his room. He took a few steps forward if for nothing else than to feel like he was doing something. It was then that he spied, amidst all the debris, a rather thick sketchpad on the floor. Bending at the waist he picked up the pad and, after brushing some chip crumbs from the front, began flipping through the pages.

A small smile somehow managed to work itself to his face as a flood of doodles, sketches and drawing filled his eyes. He had forgotten how much he used to love drawing. It was the one talent he felt came naturally to him. Flipping through the pages of the sketchpad was, for him, much like going through a photo album. With each new page he'd see the progression of his work. Drawings of dinosaurs and alien monsters from comic books, favorite foods; every new page showed a little improvement as shapes and sketches became more defined. Everything was mostly in pencil, though, there were splashes of color here and there. Eventually there came more attention to things like detail and depth and shading. He never felt confident that any of his work was worthy of display, and certainly there was much room for improvement, but for having never taken an art class in his life he at least felt he'd always done a decent enough job. Every drawing he'd made up until a couple years ago, when the hobby had somehow slipped away from him, was in this pad.

The last few pieces he had made were actually of his teammates. He remembered making them only a few weeks after they'd all first met.

First, there was one of Robin striking an action pose, with his bo staff held firmly in his hands. The hair probably wasn't exactly right and the legs looked a little weird (he'd always had a hard time doing legs) but it was still pretty good, and he felt it captured the bold heroic aspect of the leader.

Next came Cyborg in the midst of firing his laser canon while giving a primal yell. He remembered wanting to take his time with this one. Cyborg was the first person in his life he felt he could really call his best friend. Getting the details right in all of the various nooks and crannies and contours of his friend's robotic frame wasn't easy, and though he was certain he'd forgotten a few things, he was still happy with the result. And even though his torso might have been a little out of proportion, he felt the fine work he'd done on the laser canons muzzle flash made up for it.

Then came one of Starfire soaring majestically through a backdrop of clouds, an expression of pure joy on her face. This one was the source of much controversy amongst himself. Mainly because, when it came to detailing her more "womanly" features, he couldn't help but feel kind of dirty. Even now he still blushed a little thinking about it.

Lastly, of course, came Raven. And the smile faded from his lips. He had only known her a few weeks up to this point, and while everyone else was done in a realistic style with meticulous attention to detail, Raven's was cartoony to say the least. Her head was way to big for her body which itself was stick thin, providing an even starker contrast. Her eyes were a dark red color, and thick, angry, mannish eyebrows jutted inwardly above them, going nicely with a twisted, ugly scowl just below a sharp pointed nose.

Upon seeing the insulting doodle, he cringed and yet at the same time gave a weak embarrassed chuckle. It was amazing how much his feelings could change in a few short years.

For a moment he studied the caricature. Then, suddenly, came an idea. Jumping up to his feet, he walked over to his desk. After rummaging through the drawers for a few moments, he quickly found a pencil, which, as luck would have it, was nicely sharpened and had a fresh, hardly-used eraser at the other end. Crossing to the other side of the room, he sat down on his bed, leaned against the wall and brought the pad to rest against his knees.

She should have been the last thing on his mind. But, conjuring up an image of Raven in his head, he rested the tip of the pencil against the paper, and, after a moment or two, began to draw.

Some time later, after having to restart a couple of times, there was now a collection of thin, light lines decorating the paper, curving and connecting, giving structure and shape. Every new marking was executed with great care. Everything had to be perfect.

Setting down his pencil, Beast Boy rubbed his eyes. He studied the work he'd done and so far was satisfied. At the moment it was just a plain outline, devoid of detail, but he could already tell it was coming along well. After coughing into his fist, he again picked up his pencil, and then threw a glance at the clock. Almost 9:00. If nothing else, he was glad he at least found a way to pass the time. After coughing again into his hand, he picked up the pencil and resumed his work.

He would only work on the drawing for about twenty more minutes, however, before he suddenly grew tired. After staring longingly at the unfinished girl on the paper in front of him for a few minutes, he closed the sketchpad and set it down on the nightstand by the bed. For a moment he sat on his bottom bunk just staring at the floor. His eyes rose and he caught sight of himself in the full body mirror across the floor.

'So many things,' he thought to himself as his reflection stared him down, a look of pure disdain on his face. There were so many things that were just wrong with him, so many things he wished he could be. Just like the morning he studied himself and wondered about how things would be different if only he was different.

He again rubbed his eyes, and after another cough, he slid off his uniform and tossed it to the floor. Pulling the covers over his body, he reached over and clicked off the light by the bed. With darkness in the room he rolled over onto his side, and rested his head against the pillow.

Just before his eyes closed, the ear he had aimed skyward suddenly twitched. Sitting up in bed he looked about the dark of his room, studying the shadows and shapes. He sat perfectly still. When, after a few moments, he heard nothing, he shook his head and once again lay himself down. He convinced himself it was only nothing.

* * *

Strange dreams. A twisted and muddled version of the world as he knew it.

"We need to fix this," echoed a voice off the walls of his mind. Familiar and yet not.

The faces of his friends. If things weren't out of place then they simply didn't belong.

Again came the voice.

"Get up," it said. "We need to fix this."

This voice. He felt as though he should know to whom it belonged, yet every time he attempted to match it with a face, the image slipped away.

This wasn't a nightmare. Why did he feel so unnerved? Why was he so restless?

The voice.

"I'm going to fix this. And you're not going to stop me."

Raven. She's beautiful. The faintest of smiles decorated the graceful curves of her lips.

"You're not going to stop me anymore."

* * *

Fuzz world.

His eyes groggily lolled open. The usual blinks and groans soon followed and, with great effort, he slowly pulled himself into a sitting position. Stretching and yawning loudly he looked over at the alarm clock by his bed. Amazingly it read 8:45. He had said he wanted to start waking up earlier, and, under different circumstances, he might have been happy. Such was not the case this morning.

Put bluntly, he felt awful. Strangely, he felt exhausted and somewhat achy. For some reason his feet were throbbing and he could plainly feel his eyes were red. The thought of rolling over and going back to sleep crossed his mind; however, realizing he'd been in bed for nearly twelve hours, he decided to simply ignore his strange symptoms and get up.

Flicking on the light by his bed he made his way across the room. He crossed the full length of the living space, entered his bathroom and started the shower when suddenly he realized. Dashing back to the doorway he surveyed the area.

What was once messy, cluttered and unkempt was now clean and well organized. The piles of cloths were folded and placed neatly in his dresser. Every toy and piece of junk was put away, the floor had been vacuumed and there was not a spec of garbage to be found. The only other time his room had been so clean was when he had first moved in. The only question was: who cleaned it?

Scratching his head, he pondered the conundrum. Robin had always told him that someday he was going to break down and clean it himself. Regardless of who did it, however, he quickly determined it was, as they say, best not to look a gift horse in the mouth. His room was finally clean and he may as well leave it at that. So, shrugging his shoulders, he returned to his shower.

Twenty minutes later, he emerged from his room, fully clothed in a fresh uniform.

Cue Beast Boy's return.

He felt somewhat better. The hot, soothing jets of water had done a bit to relieve the strange exhaustion he felt throughout his body. He was walking down the hallway, thinking about how he was going to apologize to Raven when suddenly he saw Robin turn the corner and come into view.

"Beast Boy," exclaimed the boy wonder suddenly. A proud smile crossed his face and he quickened his pace. "Glad to see you."

Beast Boy raised an eyebrow, perplexed.

"Uh, yeah," he replied, despite his confusion at the sudden overly friendly greeting. "You too."

"Listen, I'm going to check up on some of those leads today. Are you going to be around in case I need you?"

Cue feelings of utter confusion.

He was certain he had no idea what "leads" Robin was talking about, but not sure of what else to say, he simply nodded.

"Sure," he then added, forcing a half smile for the sake of appearances. "I'll be around."

"Awesome," declared Robin. He gave Beast Boy a firm pat on the shoulder and then resumed his trek down the hall.

After watching him turn the corner and disappear from sight, Beast Boy furrowed his brow and shook his head. Resuming his walk down the hall, he pondered the previous scene. It was true, he didn't have the best attention span, but he was certain he hadn't missed anything important in recent days- at least nothing Robin had said to him. And, in any case, why would Robin need his help on leads? Detective work wasn't even close to his forte. It wasn't often that Robin made no sense.

Walking through the double doors to the common room, Beast Boy found Cyborg in the kitchen area, loading his dirty dishes from breakfast into the dishwasher.

"B," he exclaimed with slight surprise in his voice. "Didn't expect to be seeing you up so soon."

Beast Boy shrugged and gave a weak smile.

"Yeah, I'm not usually up this early am I?" he said. He made his way to the refrigerator and began pouring himself a glass of orange juice. As he swallowed the tangy liquid he saw a smirk spread across Cyborg's face.

"Well since you're here, how about a game? I owe you some payback."

Slowly pulling the glass away from his lips, Beast Boy looked at his friend and gave an unsure smile.

"Payback?" he echoed in confusion.

Cyborg put his hands on his hips.

"Well you didn't think I'd take a beating like that lying down, did you? Come on lets do this."

Feeling a cold metal hand on his back, Beast Boy felt himself being coerced to the couch, all the while, his mind becoming more and more puzzled. Once sitting down, a controller was thrust in his hands and, before he knew it, he was playing a game of _Road Brawler_.

Not sure of what else to do, he simply sat with his friend and played the game like he always did. That is terribly. After several rounds, Cyborg, as usual, remained undefeated. What was unusual, however, was the fact that he almost seemed disappointed.

"I guess that was kind of a fluke yesterday, huh?" he said suddenly, turning to Beast Boy.

"Yeah," replied Beast Boy in a slow perplexed tone.

A warm feeling, almost like nausea, rose up in Beast Boy's stomach and chest as he tried to rationalize the situation that lay before him. He recalled playing videogames with Cyborg the day before, but, like always, he had lost every round. And yet today his friend seemed surprised by his losing. Try as he might, nothing was making sense. The urge to get away came quickly. He had to clear his head.

"I gotta go," he said, setting down his controller and making his way to the door.

Again walking through the halls, Beast Boy looked at the floor and racked his brain. Everyone had gone crazy was the prevalent explanation in his mind. It was ridiculous, he knew, but it was the only thing that made sense.

Just then there was the sound of a door lock clicking open, followed by a swishing sound and, all of a sudden, Raven exited her room and was standing in front of him. All else was forgotten as Beast Boy felt his insides become tangled in knots. Thinking quickly about his apology, he continued forward. He was intent on facing her no matter how angry she still may have been with him.

After a few failed attempts, he finally opened his mouth and rattled his vocal chords enough to say her name.

"Raven?" he squeaked nervously.

She turned to him, and he was surprised to see that, while her face was a stoic as always, her eyes were warm and friendly, almost as if she were happy to see him.

"Good morning, Beast Boy," she offered.

"Morning," Beast Boy offered back, though he was confused by her friendly greeting. "Do you think I could talk to you for a second?"

"Sure," she replied. The response came so quick and naturally. One would think that she had forgotten all about the humongous fight the day before.

Swallowing hard, Beast Boy prepared himself.

"Raven, I'm really sorry about yesterday," he said earnestly. "I was acting like a total ass. I mean like a ginormous jerkass. You're my friend and I'd never want to insult you or where you come from or the people you hang out with or-"

"Beast Boy."

She spoke his name suddenly, and immediately he halted his apology. Was she still angry? Did she not even want to hear from him?

Cue pins and needles apprehension.

"Beast Boy," she said again. "I forgive you already."

Cue heart fluttering with relief.

"You do?" he said, a smile jumping to his face.

"Yes. And the first apology was quite sufficient. You don't need to apologize again."

Cue relief being replaced with surprise and confusion.

"Uh…what?"

"You can only apologize so much before it becomes annoying. But I must admit, coming forward the way you did and admitting to what you'd done, even though you didn't have to, was very mature. I'd even go so far to say I'm kind of proud of you."

He had to fight down the joy he was feeling at the glowing praise being bestowed upon him. Enough was enough. He was glad she wasn't angry with him, but just like everyone else she was acting weird. He had to find out what was going on.

"Dude, what the heck are you talking about?" he exclaimed loudly, slipping temporarily back into his old habit of saying dude before ever sentence.

Raven arched an eyebrow.

"What do you mean?"

"I mean I don't know what you're talking about. I came here to apologize to you today, not for the second time, for the first time."

Raven stared at him for a moment before shaking her head and furrowing her brow.

"Is this a joke?" she sighed. "Cause I have to admit I don't get it."

"No, it's not a joke. I'm confused. Nobody's making any sense today."

"So, what, you're saying that wasn't you in the hallway last night?"

"What me in the hallway last night?"

"Last night, I was standing right here when you came up to me and said you were sorry for how you acted at the market. You said it was because you had disobeyed my orders and wandered off in the store and gotten yourself lost, and that you were really just feeling guilty. Then you gave me this."

Amidst everything that had happened, Beast Boy had failed to notice that Raven had exited her room with a book clutched to her chest. She held it up to him so he could read the title. It was a brand new copy of _Crime and Punishment_ by Fyodor Dostoyevsky.

"Honestly, I'm really surprised you remembered what it was called," added Raven bringing the book back to her chest.

Beast Boy was stunned. Cue major plot development.

"I gave you that," he stated plainly.

"Yes. To replace the one you ruined. It was very nice of you."

Looking into Raven's eyes Beast Boy began scratching the back of his head.

"When was this?" he asked suddenly.

"Last night," said Raven.

"Yeah, but what time?"

"I don't know. 10:30? Eleven o'clock?"

Beast Boy recalled the time he had fallen asleep the night before, and it felt as though someone had just splashed him in the face with ice water.

"Beast Boy?" said Raven, with new concern showing in her eyes. "Are you okay?"

"Yeah," he said suddenly. His defenses kicked back on and his trademark grin spread across his face. He didn't want her to see how scared he was at that moment. "Just joking, like you said. Just a funny joke. Ha ha. Funny."

Just as she was beginning to look at him oddly, he bid her a quick farewell and dashed away to his room. Turning the knob he threw open the door and then quickly closed it behind him. He began pacing back and forth.

"So what happened?" he suddenly asked his room. "Was I sleep walking? Is that what happened? Did I just sleep walk down to a bookstore, get Raven a book that I'd long ago forgot the title to, then come back here, give it to her, go beat Cyborg at videogames, help Robin with some cases he was working on or something, then come back here and…clean my room? Is that what happened."

It was strange. Saying everything out loud made him realize that nothing bad had in fact happened during the night, and yet, at the same time, the fact that he didn't even know he was doing it made him somewhat frightened.

"What the heck is going on?" he yelled aloud to his room again. "How is it I did all these things?"

The room, at first, said nothing. But then…

"You didn't; I did."

Beast Boy's eyes widened in shock. The voice, it was the voice from his dream, the one that was so familiar and yet couldn't be placed, so clear and close; it was coming from inside his room. Spinning his head from side to side he attempted to find the source, but every direction turned up nothing.

"Over here," came the voice again.

Spinning on his heels, Beast Boy turned to find his reflection grinning at him with his arms crossed in front of his chest. Arms crossed in front of his chest. With his brow furrowed in confusion, Beast Boy looked down at his arms. They were not crossed in front of chest. Looking back up at his reflection, he moved his hand to his face. The Beast Boy in the mirror did not follow. Instead he simply remained staring, grinning, with his arms crossed.

It was then Beast Boy realized why the voice he'd heard was so familiar and yet implacable. The voice was in fact his.

"What's going on?" said Beast Boy taking a step back. "Who are you?"

The Beast Boy in the mirror uncrossed his arms.

"I'm the real you, Beast Boy," it said. "And I want out."


	6. Chapter 6

_Now._

For hours now, with legs dangling off the side of Titans Tower, he sat, turning it over in his mind. With each pass, the thought would become heavier. Note pad in lap and pencil between thumb and index finger, he made line after careful line on the white paper, only stopping for the occasional cough, his attention divided between his work and the decision that was hanging over his head like a dagger. It couldn't be put off for too much longer. Eventually he would have to go back and face it.

As his desire took shape on the paper, he took a deep breath and remembered. One more time.

_Then._

He rubbed his eyes and waved his hand back and forth in front of the mirror, but still the Beast Boy in before him did not match his movements.

"You can stop now," said the reflection.

It's voice: so much like his own, and yet different. The familiar soft and subtle rasp he had grown up with since puberty was there, yet it sounded stronger, more masculine. Cool and confidant. Sexy even. It's body language was the same kind of cool. The Beast Boy in the mirror seemed poised, ready to act at a moments notice, and yet relaxed. Dignified. Seemingly ready to light up a cigarette like the badass hero of so many action movies.

Taking a cautionary step back, Beast Boy attempted to still his heart as he slowly spoke, "Who are you?"

"I just told you," the reflection replied. "I'm you."

"Me?"

The reflection nodded. "I'm the real you," it said, putting special emphasis on the word "real."

Beast Boy coughed despite himself and furrowed his brow. "The real me?" he said, his face a mask of confusion.

The reflection, arched an eyebrow and gave a cocky half-smile. "Hard to believe? With all the strange stuff we've seen over the years, do you really think that this here is so impossible.

He thought for a little bit then shook his head, and said, "I guess not." The reflection, perhaps noticing Beast Boy's obvious reluctance, put his hands up passively and took a more calming stance.

"Look, I know this is strange," it said. "But trust me, I'm here to help you."

"Help me?" Beast Boy's ears perked up slightly, though his face remained skeptical.

"Yeah, well…I guess you could think of it more as doing you a favor," said the reflection, talking with his hands in a calm and casual fashion.

Swallowing his spit nervously, Beast Boy buried a cough in his chest. In an alternate reality he would have already rushed from the room, gone and found his teammates, blathered about what he saw, hoped they believed him. However, his natural curiosity was peaked. Whether this was really happening or not, he still wished to know more. "What kind of favor?" he said, taking another small step towards the mirror.

For a moment, the reflection appeared thoughtful, as if wondering how exactly to proceed. "You may not realize it, but you're capable of being a lot more than you are," it said finally. "When I say I'm the real you, I mean I'm everything that you're capable of being. You know, everything you want to be. Smart, strong, brave, the perfect Beast Boy."

For a moment Beast Boy remained silent in thought. "So, what, you're here to…show me the future or something? Tell me to keep working hard and never give up?" he said, after a moment.

"No," answered the reflection. "I'm here to replace you."

Cue stunned silence.

"Uh…what?"

The reflection continued.

"You may not have realized it, but I've been inside you your whole life, and, frankly, I'm sick of watching. To put it simply I think it would be best if I ran things for a while."

Taking several steps back from the reflection, Beast Boy's body tensed up, the warm sickness at the thought of imminent battle rising up in his stomach and chest. He lowered his chin and stared, with new alertness, through his brow, at the doppelganger in the mirror.

Noticing the sudden change in body language, the double offered a kind and sympathetic smile, chuckling and saying, "Don't worry, it's completely up to you. I'm not a body snatcher or anything."

Beast Boy lowered his guard slightly, but still remained rigid, poised for combat, as the reflection once again gave a lighthearted chuckle. Suddenly a thought occurred to him.

"Well what about last night," he said quickly. "You took me over in my sleep."

"No easy task, I assure you," he replied. "The body is just naturally more susceptible to suggestion in an unconscious state. Still, assuming control of you like I did last night wasn't easy. I doubt I could do it again."

The answer pacified, but not by enough. There was still a great deal of mistrust coursing through Beast Boy's tense frame.

"Besides," the reflection continued. "I only did it as an example, to give you an idea of how things can be." It paused for a moment, allowing the information to settle in the air. "Think about it," it said, finally. "I got Robin to really start seeing you as a productive member of the team, Cyborg can relate with you a little better and I even cleaned your room: something you've been putting off since you first moved in."

"But what about me?" asked Beast Boy.

The reflection seemed hesitant. "Well," it said after a moment. "See there's only room for one of us. I'd be you."

For a moment, Beast Boy turned away from the mirror and looked at the ground thoughtfully. It was true what it said. This other Beast Boy had done nothing but good with the little time he spent in control of his body. But still. Surrendering his body, his identity, allowing it to be erased from existence. The thought itself was unsettling.

Once again displaying it's uncanny ability to read body language, the reflection's eyes softened and he made motion like taking a small, gentle step forward.

"Beast Boy," it said. "You want to be a better hero? Really make a difference in the world? Hell, you want to beat Cyborg at Mortal Wombat every now and then? I can do that" The reflection paused. "And," it said. "I can make Raven love you."

At the mention of the violet haired girl, Beast Boy immediately looked up into the reflection's emerald green eyes. So like his. A moment passed. "But it wouldn't really be me," he said finally.

"Yes, it would," said the reflection. "Beast Boy, I am you. I know everything you know and more. I want everything you want. I love Raven because you love Raven and she can love you back. But you need to show her the real you. Please, let me out."

Again, Beast Boy looked at his reflection, standing perfectly still, and for the first time in several minutes he felt as if he were once again looking at himself. He could feel his tongue itching to speak when suddenly his reflection broke in.

"Take some time," it said. "Think it over."

_Now._

All he needed was a tall enough building.

Sitting at the ledge, he thought. A woman now stared at him from the notepad in his lap, the shadow around her cheeks and under her chin gave her a three-dimensional appearance. Her eyes had a beautiful but subtle mysteriousness. The faintest of smiles graced her lips. And though she existed only in a world of gray and white, her presence was a kind of brilliance that penetrated the two dimensions of the paper. Shining like a beacon.

It was his best work.

He would do anything for this girl on the paper. Wouldn't he?

Cue the creaking of a door.

Turning his head back to the entrance to the roof, he felt his heart leap to his throat at the sight of his paper woman, now standing in full color before him.

"I wasn't expecting to find you up here," she said, her voice a combination of surprise and embarrassment.

He swallowed and said, "Yeah, I come up here sometimes to think."

She nodded. "I understand. Sorry I bothered you," she replied, and turned to leave.

He suddenly felt himself nearly leaping to his feet as he outstretched an arm towards her, fingers spreading, trying to reach. "No," he nearly yelled. "You don't have to go. Stay…if you want to."

For a moment she remained still. She asked if he was sure he didn't mind and when he again insisted she made her way to the ledge where he sat. In her arms was _Crime and Punishment._

"I was just going to do some reading," she said, taking her seat a few feet away from him on the ledge.

He only nodded.

For several minutes the two sat in silence, her reading quietly to herself, while he only stared out at the sea, the urge to throw a quick glance her way coming periodically.

Finally

"Is that a sketch pad?"

Her voice was sudden. At the mention of the pad of paper in his hands he nearly lost his grip and threw the object from the top of the tower.

"Yeah," he finally said, hugging the pad to his chest.

"I didn't know you drew."

He smiled nervously and rubbed the back of his head as he looked down at his knees. "I don't really," he said. "Just, you know, some doodles every now and then."

"Oh," she replied.

Cue moment of awkward silence.

Looking at her, he felt strange, very unlike how he felt days, weeks and months before. Looking at her, remembering the reflection's offer, he felt his nervousness subside. Maybe it was because he felt he had less to lose; maybe it was that he had grown sick of feeling sick, but, whatever the reason, he soon felt his tongue rising and his mouth shaping the words.

"Could I show you something?"

Looking at him, she nodded and gently replied, "Sure."

"It's just something I was working on," he said. "I thought maybe you could tell me what you think."

Turning the pad over in his hands, he slowly turned it so that the woman on the paper was soon reflecting the woman sitting next to him. Raven in gray and white reflecting Raven in full color. He watched as her eyes widened in surprise and her mouth hung open ever so slightly. It may have been his imagination, but he swore he also saw the slightest tinge of pink in her cheeks.

"You drew this?" she said.

"Yes."

Her voice was a surprised whisper. "Beast Boy, that's amazing."

"Thanks," he replied sheepishly.

"No, really," she said. "I can't believe you made this yourself. It's beautiful. I mean it's really nice."

"Thanks," he said again.

A thought then occurred to him. Taking a firm grip on the pad, he gently began tearing the picture from its binding.

For a moment, Raven's eyes widened in confusion. "What are you doing?" she said, her voice raising an octave in surprise.

"Here," said Beast Boy handing her the portrait. "I want you to have it."

"Oh," she replied.

If he wasn't sure about it before, he definitely was now. Raven was blushing.

"Are you sure?" she asked as she gently took a corner of the picture in between her thumb and index finger.

"Yeah," he said, smiling at her.

As she studied the gray and white vision of her in her hands, he slowly got to his feet and headed for the door. As he walked, eyes fixed on the exit, he imagined her staring back at him, watching him leave. Giving her the picture, his best work, the culmination of hours and hours of patience and persistence, he felt a gentle warmth rise up in his chest. A warmth he knew he'd be foolish to miss out on feeling again.

* * *

The reflection stared at him, a look of shock plastered onto his green face. "No?" it questioned.

Beast Boy nodded firmly. "I appreciate the offer," he said. "But I'm going to have to say no. If you're who I'm meant to be then I'll get there on my own. So thank you but no thank you."

The reflection stared hard at Beast Boy. Suddenly his identical eyes narrowed and his brow arced down in anger.

"Well that's just too bad," it snapped. "Cause I'm not going away."

Eyes widening in surprise, Beast Boy straightened at his reflection's sudden harsh demeanor as it shot him a death glare.

"You're a looser Beast Boy," it continued. "I'm better than you in every way and if you think you're just going to toss me aside then you got another thing coming, pal."

Beast Boy suddenly felt his own anger rise up inside of his stomach. "Dude," he shot. "What's you're problem?"

"You're my problem, DUDE," it barked. "You've always been my problem. And one way or another I'm going to get rid of you."

"We'll see about that," replied Beast Boy crossing his arms defiantly in front of his chest.

The reflection smirked wickedly. "Don't think you can win this Beast Boy. You gotta sleep sometime."

Beast Boy opened his mouth to respond, but suddenly realized his alternate self was no longer there. Waving his arm in front of his face garnered an identical response from the mirror. Now there was no one in the room but him.


	7. Chapter 7

"He's been strange."

It was blunt and to the point, the way it always was with him.

Across the room there were nods of agreement. Everyone's chins moved up and down.

She only watched in silence.

"His behavior has been most unusual."

"Well, I mean sometimes he seems okay enough. But then... I don't know. He just seems off."

Nods of agreement. Soft murmurs of accordance. Her just watching.

"He looks terrible."

"Tired."

"Maybe he is not getting enough sleep?"

"He's definitely not getting enough sleep."

"He always seems confused. Like he doesn't remember anything past a few hours ago."

"He's not always like that."

"No, not always."

More nodding. More watching. Looking from face to face, they continued.

"Maybe he is upset about something."

"Has he said anything to anyone?"

Every head shook, back and forth. Each of them, at the same time thinking back, wondering. Questioning their own recollections. They all shook their heads, claiming ignorance.

"Should we talk to him? Ask him what's wrong?"

No one answered as the common room was suddenly filled with the familiar swishing sound of the doors as they slid open. Turning in rapid unison, each of them quickly spotted the object of their concern as he came shambling into the room.

Stumbling and rocking a little with each step, he slowly approached the refrigerator. With a shaky hand he gripped the long wood handle and tugged open the door, a small sigh of exertion passing over his dry lips. He didn't seem to notice the room's other occupants as they looked to one another, contemplating. He didn't notice them staring at him, studying his haggard appearance.

His bloodshot eyes, shrunken with fatigue, victims of overuse. His hair, unkempt and unwashed, matted to the side of his head. His once bright exuberant skin color, now dull, almost lifeless. His slumping shoulders. His crooked posture. His dragging unsure footsteps. A teenager now an old man in a matter of days.

Robin, naturally, made the first move, stepping past the others, maneuvering past the coffee table, around the couch, across the carpet. The others followed close behind as he walked with purpose up to the green man in the kitchen as he greedily guzzled a glass of orange juice. He cleared his throat.

"Beast Boy," he said firmly.

Taking one more swallow of juice, the green man then pulled the nearly empty glass away from his lips. A few thin, liquid lines of orange dribbled from the corners of his mouth, down his chin and neck, staining the collar of his t-shirt.

Fixing him with a serious gaze, Robin gave a small gesture to the rest of the team standing behind him and said, "We need to talk." He fully prepared to go into how worried they all were, how they knew something was bothering him. How they were his friends, and that he shouldn't be afraid to be honest with them. They wouldn't judge him. Before he could speak a word, however.

"I know, I know. I've been acting weird," said Beast Boy suddenly, his voice somber. "And I'm really sorry for worrying you. It's just that I haven't been sleeping well. It's nothing serious. I've just had a lot on my mind lately. I promise though, everything's fine now. Everything's just fine."

* * *

Several days earlier.

The first night was the easiest.

For several seconds after his alternate self had disappeared, he simply stood, staring into the mirror, wondering to himself exactly what had happened. He stood there, in his room, thinking to himself. Had he imagined the whole thing? Was it real? Was it all in his head? Before he could get to thinking about telling anyone what he had seen, the titan alarm sounded. Suddenly feeling the ache in his bones, he groaned to himself. Nevertheless he turned and quickly headed out the door.

He returned several hours later at dusk, after having helped put a stop to Control Freaks attempt to destroy every print of the Space Wars Trilogy prequels. The battle had gone relatively smoothly, but still he felt exhausted. More so then he'd ever felt in his life. Absent mindedly he wandered into his room and collapsed onto the bed. Before he knew it, he was asleep.

If he dreamed he didn't remeber it.

* * *

With a deep groan and a loud stretch he turned over in bed and faced the bottom of the top bunk. Lying on his back, his eyes slowly cracked open. He didn't feel rested, and yet he could honestly say he felt better. The events of the previous day were temporarily forgotten. He had been so tired the day before. Was he simply not remembering things the way they had happened? With great effort, he again stretched, pulled himself out of bed. Taking one shaky step after another, he crossed the floor, towards the bathroom and the shower. As he walked he failed to notice. Unlike the day before, his DVD collection on the wall rack was now arranged in alphabetical order.

Walking through the common room doors, revealed Robin, cleaning dishes in the sink. Slowly making his way over, Beast Boy made for the cabinets and retrieved a bowl for his cereal.

"Morning," he muttered.

"Afternoon," Robin replied.

Beast Boy craned his neck around to the clock on the wall. It was almost 1:30. Ignoring the time, he opted to have breakfast anyway. Snatching up a loaf of bread in one hand he reached for the toaster, the shiny metal toaster with the reflective surface. The one he quickly caught sight of himself in. Where his reflection gave a smirk that wasn't his own and said, "I told you I wasn't going away."

Yelping in surprise, he dropped the bread and was taking a defensive step back when Robin suddenly turned to him.

"Going away?" Robin said.

"Huh?" Beast Boy said.

"What do you mean you're not going away?"

He had heard him. The alternate him, Robin had heard it.

Taking the masked man by the arm, Beast Boy pointed. The reflection in the toaster's metal surface did the same, echoing his move, pointing right back. "Do you see that?" he asked.

For a moment, Robin was silent. Then in a quizzical voice he said, "The toaster?"

"No," said Beast Boy. "The other me. The one _in_ the toaster."

Again Robin hesitated before speaking, studying Beast Boy's tired, concerned face as he tried to make sense of the green teen's bizarre behavior. Slowly he said, "There's another you living inside the toaster."

"No," said Beast Boy, loud and frustrated. Quickly moving to the counter, he picked up the metal appliance and held it to the side of his face, so that he and his reflective twin were now both in plain sight. Glaring at the twin, the twin glared back. Both pointed to one another and both said, "Him."

Robin arched an eyebrow. After a pause he scratched his head. "You need to get a writer," he said, turning away and making for the door. Before exiting, he added, "Cause you're jokes just don't make sense anymore." The doors then swished shut behind him.

"You might want to watch yourself with that kind of talk, Beast Boy." Beast Boy turned to the appliance in his hands, where the reflection smirked up at him. "They might think you're going crazy."

Beast Boy glared down at the reflection, this alternate him. "Dude," he practically shrieked. "You again?"

Ignoring him, the reflection continued. "Crazy Beast Boy. He's hearing voices. Been talking to himself. Arguing with the toaster."

"Stop it."

"I guess all the pressure of his superheroing -such as it was- at such a young age was just too much for his fragile psyche."

"Stop it," he said again, louder than before.

"Well, he needs help then. Some place safe and quiet, where some nice head doctor's can give him all the electroshock treatment he needs."

"I'm not crazy," said Beast Boy firmly.

"I know that. You don't have to convince me. You only have to convince them."

Beast Boy grit his teeth and set the toaster down roughly on the countertop. He turned away and faced the wall at the far end of the room.

Behind him, he could feel his reflection staring at his back. He could feel this alternate him, this more intelligent version of him staring him down.

"Look," it said suddenly. "For what it's worth, I'm sorry I snapped at you like I did yesterday. I was just, you know, frustrated. I mean I really wanted to help. I even showed you how great your life could be with me in charge, and you just threw my offer back in my face. I mean I was only trying to help you're worthless ass."

"Why are you doing this?" said Beast Boy, turning back to the reflection. "I just don't get it. You're supposed to be me. Why are you treating me this way?"

The reflection stared long and hard back at him. "Because you don't like yourself."

Cue silence.

Long silence.

"I lied before," said the reflection. "When I said I probably wouldn't be able to take control of you again while you slept? I lied about that. I did it last night. All I did was hang out and watch movies. But if you insist on making this difficult..." He paused. "I want my life," he said.

Then he was gone.

The days that followed were harder.

* * *

Clutching the sides of the toilet bowl so tight his knuckles turned white, he emptied the contents of his stomach. He couldn't remember the last time he felt so sick. Heaving over and over, groaning and spitting. He could feel his digestive juices burning his throat, stinging the splits in his lips. From behind him, in his bathroom mirror, in his head, he could hear his alternate self chuckling. A great joke.

"Think of it this way," he said, winking through a swollen, black and blue eye socket. "I mean just think how happy you made her."

Again Beast Boy heaved. There was a wet splashing sound as bits of purple and blue glop passed from his lips and piled into the bowl, joining the multicolored mess.

"Oh come on," said the reflection. "It's can't be that bad." A grin crossed his face and again he laughed. Of course it was that bad. He knew it was that bad. He knew it because Beast Boy knew it. Just like everyone in the tower knew it. You don't eat Starfire's cooking. You don't volunteer to be her special taste tester while she tries out new recipes. You don't stay up for hours on end, eating bowl after bowl of the stuff. Not if you don't want to end up in this exact spot.

Again the reflection laughed. And again Beast Boy painfully heaved another blob of Starfire's abominable alien cooking into the bowl. Then, for a moment, the sickness subsided. The reflection watched as Beast Boy breathed slowly over the bowl.

All week, it had been like this. Everyday waking up to a new horrible surprise.

That damned alternate him.

Every day Beast Boy would wake up and find the remnants of what his alternate self had done the night before. Dried blood on his pillow from a busted nose or a split lip. Black shining eyes. Leftovers from a night of crime fighting. Overtime that he didn't want. Hangovers he didn't deserve. A stomach full of disgusting cooking. Waking up dirty, sweaty and bloody, because the alternate him didn't even have the common courtesy to wash his body after he was done using it.

That damned alternate him. That crafty bastard.

"Maybe I wouldn't get so injured if I got some more sleep," he remembered the reflection saying with a smug grin.

The war with himself had become a battle of wills at this point. As he hugged the side of the toilette, breathing into the bowl, Beast Boy clenched his stomach and opened his throat. He dry heaved, forcing with all his might, trying to get out whatever remnants he could. Often times when he'd get sick, he'd simply never leave the bathroom, opting instead to simply wait. It wasn't worth trying to sleep it off. He'd be up every hour, gagging and puking. So he'd wait. He'd wretch and heave and puke, completely empty himself until whatever was ailing him was gone.

Sitting in his bathroom, hugging the bowl, he thought about the alternate him. And he heaved. And he heaved again. But still he was sick.

That alternate son of a bitch.

* * *

"Beast Boy."

He was trudging by her room, headed to the kitchen for some coffee, which he was becoming more and more fond of, when he heard her call his name. Turning he found her standing in her door way. Gripping the frame, she appeared nervous. Her body language told him she was unsure of what she was going to do.

"Beast Boy," she said again.

How he loved hearing her say his name.

"Could I speak to you for a moment? In private?"

Stepping to the side, she invited him into her room. Despite the fatigue, all the pain that wracked his body; despite the mystery of what she had to say, he still felt joyful. He loved her attention. He always had.

"What's up?" he said with a small smile, after stepping into her room. He watched as she closed the door and nervously approached him, playing with her fingers in apprehension.

"I just really needed to say thank you for the picture."

"The picture?" he echoed. Confused for only a moment, it came rushing back to him like a shot. "The picture," he said again, this time without the question mark. "Oh you don't need to thank me for that."

Still playing with her fingers, she looked sincerely into his eyes and said, "Yes, I do." She then turned slightly away from him, her cheeks flushed. "I mean...It's just..." She struggled to find the words. "It was so nice. I didn't know anyone could look at me that way. For once it made me feel..." She trailed off. Whatever she wanted to say was lost to the silence.

He had never seen her like this.

Slowly he raised a hand out in front of him and gently rested it on her shoulder. "I wanted you to have it," he said. His heart soared as a tiny smile spread across her lips.

"You're a good friend, Beast Boy," she said. "Thank you."

In an alternate reality, he'd be wishing he was in this exact spot, at this exact time.

Then she smiled at him and said, "And thank you for the other picture too."

Cue confusion mixed with dread.

"Other picture?" he said.

"Yes. It's part of the reason I needed to talk to you like this. I realized I never thanked you for that first picture. I guess I was just surprised that you could make something like that." As she spoke she walked past him and slowly approached her desk. "But then when I found this one this morning." She retrieved a large piece of drawing paper from its surface and held it out in front of her, above her head.

And his heart sank.

There it was, gripped gently between her fingertips. Raven, in exquisite detail. Every little facet that made her unique and beautiful was there, brought to life by an artist of unbelievable talent with unwavering dedication. No pencil sketch. No black and white. It was Raven reflecting Raven in full, magnificent color.

His shoulders slumped. It was a perfect expression of his feelings for Raven, and he had no claim to it.

His was the other drawing.

He was the other man.

"It was just so amazing I couldn't..." As she continued, she lowered the drawing back to the desk. "I just didn't want you to think I didn't appreciate it."

Slowly she approached him.

'No,' he said in his head.

"No one's ever done anything like this for me before," she said, stopping in front of him, so close he could feel her body heat.

'Please stop,' he pleaded voicelessly.

She raised a hand to his face and gently cupped his cheek in her hand.

'Not like this.'

She raised up on her toes and gently, sweetly, placed a soft kiss on his cheek, just barely grazing the corner of his lips.

It was then he knew he had lost.

After quietly dismissing himself he slowly, sadly, headed for his room. Once there, he stepped in front of his mirror and waited to be acknowledged.

"You know that was me she was kissing, don't you?" said the reflection finally.

He nodded.

"You know you can't compete with me, don't you?"

Again he nodded. He nodded and said, "So how do we do this?"

The reflection smiled. "It's simple," he said. "Just clear you mind, place your hand on the glass."

* * *

Beast Boy smiled brightly, very much like the green Titan they all knew. "Don't worry, guys," he said. "Everything's going to be fine from now on."

She watched as he started talking with the others. She watched as he smiled and laughed. In silence she watched and thought.

* * *

Both drawings were there, spread out flat on the floor of her room. From drawing to drawing she looked. Back and forth. Raven reflected in black and white over to Raven reflected in full color and back again.

Bringing a hand to her chin, she studied each picture.

"Hmm," was all she said.


	8. Chapter 8

Hello, my name is Raven and I'm an empath. It wasn't difficult, not difficult at all. Yet it seemed that everywhere she went, there were always pinheads- good, honest, well meaning pinheads though they were- who would run up to her wanting her to read their minds, asking her what it's like being a mind reader, a psychic, a medium. Wrong. wrong. wrong every last one of them. Every. Last. One.

At first she said nothing. She'd simply give one of her famous deadpan stares before simply walking away. If she was in a foul mood, she would ask them what it was like being a doctor. Nine times out of ten they would stare at her in confusion before saying they weren't a doctor. She would tell them to work on that and get back to her.

Roll on snare.

It was more mean than funny, but the way she understood it there were plenty of comedians who made careers off of being mean. And people told her she didn't have a sense of humor. If anything she'd probably have a better chance of succeeding in the comedy world than the average office clown.

Still, just flat out ignoring the problem of course did absolutely nothing as far as making it go away. It soon became whenever she went out there would always be that one person who'd recognize her in her civilian clothes; that one person who'd want more than an autograph or a picture, who'd want to ask her questions. And invariably, the same questions would always come up.

What's it like to read minds? What number am I thinking right now? What's going to happen to me five years from now?

And just like before. Dead pan stare and then tell me what it's like being an orthodontist, a rocket scientist, a cow inseminator?

Eventually she ran out of professions.

She didn't know what it was about her that made people get the absolute wrong idea about her abilities. She guessed that some may have figured she was a telepath because she appeared to move objects with her mind (in actuality, she was converting raw emotions into energy which she could then use to encase objects and thereby manipulate them). Of course, in that case they'd be thinking of telekinesis, and to the average person those two abilities were probably interchangeable. Maybe it was the way she dressed, her cloak, that made some think she was psychic, and maybe hearing the word half-demon made some think she could tell them about the other side. Regardless, she got tired of simply ignoring them, these misguided, overexcited pinheads. Instead she decided she was going to educate them.

Hello, my name is Raven and I'm an empath. What's an empath? I can sense, manipulate and feed off of emotions, as well as convert emotion into energy.

And those annoying little pinheads- polite and courteous though they were- would nod their heads, say thank you, leave. And with each passing time, she would hope that the word would spread. That they would tell their friends and families, their coworkers, the regular passerby, the person they exchange idle chit chat with in line at the grocery store, that Raven of the Teen Titans was not a telepath, a psychic, a medium like most people thought. She was an empath. She reads emotions not minds. But still after years of protecting, after dozens of interviews, so many polite exchanges on the street, so many corrections, still she would hear them. What's it like being a mind reader? Can you tell me about my dead Great Aunt Flo?

Those sweet, innocent, naive, little pinheads.

Hello, my name is Raven and I'm an empath.

* * *

She woke up to silence. There was no need for the sharp, piercing beeping of an alarm clock. Though she had one and kept it by her bed, it was only used to tell time. She didn't need to set it. Years of constancy, of going to bed and waking up at the exact same time, had given her an internal alarm. It was more than enough to wake her in the morning, and spared her the need for the conventional alarms, which she had never cared for.

Slowly, her eyes opened. Narrow slits of amethyst encased in pearl slowly spreading, blinking, looking. Seeing that blur effect that came from hours of being unused.

Fuzz world.

She remembered he had called it fuzz world. She had called him an idiot. She had never told anyone about how bad she felt afterwards. Her sarcastic comments and putdowns. She never really meant half the things she said.

She sat up in her lavender sheets and placed her hands on her lower back. Arching her body into a C-shape, thrusting out her chest in a way that would have embarrassed her if anyone were watching, she let out a soft groan. The muscles in her back, stretched and burned with the new activity and then relaxed. She sighed and reached for the ceiling. She brought an ear to each shoulder. Her joints snapped and popped with the sound of escaping gasses and the sudden moving of tendons and ligaments. Her knees straightened under the covers. She rolled her ankles. More snapping and popping. She then thrust the sheets from her body and turned on her rear, bringing her feet to the floor. She rubbed her face and got to her feet.

Clad in black tank top and running shorts, she crossed the blue carpeted floor of her bedroom and made for her bureau. As she got closer she caught sight of the drawings which sat on her bureau, reflected in her vanity mirror. One black and white. One in full color. Immediately she was reminded how concerned she was for him. Beast Boy, her...friend.

She had studied the drawings the previous night before falling asleep. Looking back and forth between the two drawings of her, she noted the substantial jump in quality in the second as compared to the first: the increase in detail, in shading; everything, every strand of hair drawn with meticulous detail, all the subtle changes in her complexion all captured in glorious color. It looked worthy of a museum and it had all impressed her greatly. Still, looking at the pictures side by side, she couldn't help but wonder.

However, the drawings weren't the cause of her concern.

Next to the drawings sat her CD player, the big silver boom box she had gotten several years back as a Christmas gift. She remembered how his emerald eyes had lit up on that day, how that toothy grin had spread across his face when she turned to him and gave him her most sincere thanks. She remembered the blush that appeared very noticeably on his green cheeks, the warm feeling in her chest and the sweet taste of something like honey on her tongue.

Running her fingers along the flat thin buttons on top of the player, she soon found the familiar outline of the play button and pressed down. The button clicked. The box made a whirring sound. A few seconds later the room filled with music. The soft plucking of strings. Soothing and relaxing. The sweet melodic sounds of the gu zheng. After returning to the center of the room and breathing deep, she began her morning exercises.

* * *

She couldn't read minds. However, she could send her soul self into a person's mind and explore their memories, their dreams and see the world through their eyes. It was a process that was difficult for her and oftentimes only worked with cooperation from the subject. She always chose to exclude this information when educating someone. Trying to explain to explain how actual empathy worked always took up all the talking she was willing to do for the average person (Her talking quota, she called it).

Not to give the wrong impression, she had nothing but respect for her telepathic allies. She had journeyed into the human mind; she knew how overwhelming it was. Being in someone's mind was a lot like being in a small room, surrounded on all sides by hundreds of TV screens all showing something different on fast forward and at max volume. To put it another way: thoughts move fast. They're loud and chaotic. They come and go at such a rapid pace that learning how to slow them down, finding and focusing on only what you want, can be a long and difficult process. Not to mention learning how to differentiate and keep separate your own thoughts from a subject's, another great challenge for the average telepath. Raven knew this, and she sympathized.

But still, if given the choice between the two, empathy and telepathy, which ability she'd rather tolerate, well...

* * *

Breathing deep, she straightens her back and brings her arms gently out in front of her. One hundred percent of her weight on her back foot, placed forty-five degrees from the direction of her hips, she arches her front foot so that only the base of her toes touch the floor. Position 1, Din boo. Gracefully she shifts her front foot slightly away from her hips and slides it back so that her heel rests just behind the heel of her back foot. Second position, Sui boo.

Tai Tzi Tsuan or Tai Chi. Much like traditional meditation, it's a great way to take control of your emotions.

* * *

If thoughts were like watching several movies at the same time then emotions were like watching those same movies blindfolded, in a foreign language, while the world around you constantly changes. Nothing makes sense, you're never sure of what's in front of you or what you're feeling. To put it another, more blunt way: it sucks.

Unlike thoughts, which are expressed one after another in rapid secession, emotions are simultaneous. Unlike thoughts, no one ever feels only one emotion at a time, that is save for the emotionally damaged. Emotions are complex and many. Happiness is not simply happiness. It's joy, delight, bliss, cheer, geniality, pleasure, contentment. Anger is not just anger. Fear is not just fear. Every single core emotion is divided into many different parts; every part carries with it a distinct but near unidentifiable sensation; all these sensations happen without warning. This is what it means to be an empath.

Imagine feeling hot and not knowing why. Imagine then you suddenly feel what can best be described as sharp cold needles prodding at the base of your spine. Out of nowhere, a quick feeling nausea. The taste of something like candy. You smell something that can only be described as freshly cut flowers. Everything you feel is the result of the people around you. Amidst all this mess, how can you be so sure what you're own feelings are?

After years of experience, of paying close attention to her surroundings and learning to read body language, of learning to focus her powers through meditation, interpreting the various sensations she felt everyday was becoming easier. Though some remained a mystery.

The previous night, after assuring all of them that he was okay, Beast Boy had proceeded to tell them all about the things that he had been doing with his nights. He told them about going out into the city to do night patrolling. He told them about chasing down a mugger, about tracing a group of car thieves back to their hideout and shutting down their secret chop shop.

There was a small pressure just below her ribs and there was a taste on her tongue like sugar and olive oil. Robin was impressed. All over, her body tingled and she suddenly felt lighter than air. Starfire's happiness. The same tingling sensation, only combined with a feeling of fullness, as if having just eaten a big meal. The pride of Cyborg.

She felt this but said nothing.

* * *

Back still straight, coccyx facing forward, knees perfectly above feet, she bends until her thighs are perfectly parallel to the floor. Ma boo. Focusing completely on the precision of her movements, she is relaxed and calm.

* * *

Standing there, watching him regale the other's with his story, she remembered trying to imagine Beast Boy swooping down from the rooftops, blindsiding a group of thugs from out of the darkness. She tried to think of him with a righteous fury burning in his eyes as he laid waste to the terrified malefactors only to then retreat back into the shadows. Him, Beast Boy, a mystery in the minds of innocents and a bane on the lives of the guilty. She watched him and tried to imagine this. And yet she could not. And yet she did not think he was lying. Even without the marks on his face, she still would not have believed he was lying.

* * *

She distributes about thirty percent of her weight to her back foot. She turns it just barely to the outside so that her front and back feet are almost parallel. Her hands out in front of her are relaxed. Back still straight, her feet and hips face the same direction. Gun boo. She finds her center of gravity and begins her stepping. Her palms face down, her hands shoulder width apart, it feels as if they're floating. Bending her knees, she slowly distributes all of her weight from one foot to another as she slowly and gracefully glides across the room. One leg always tense. The other always relaxed. Yan and In. Like with her usual meditation, she gains control of herself and she is at peace.

* * *

'Something's wrong.'

It was what kept running through her head over and over the night before in the common room. Standing there, listening to Beast Boy regale the rest of the team with tales of his nightly crime fighting exploits, she realized that something was off. Standing there, listening to Beast Boy, she realized that it wasn't the drawings he'd made for her, it wasn't the stories he told or the unusual tone in his voice (Stronger and smoother than was usual) that was arousing her suspicion. It was something else, something that only she could have realized. Standing there, listening to him she began moving her eyes about the room, from teammate to teammate. Looking from Starfire to Cyborg to Robin. Each one, their emotions clear as crystal, emanating. Their individual emotional aura's, she could feel and see and taste and smell, like always.

Then she focused on Beast Boy. And she focused. And she tried and tried. And she realized.

His emotions. His aura. His presence. It was dim. Almost as if he wasn't really there.

Standing there, his words drifted into the background. The rest of the world fell away as she fixed her eyes on him and tried with all her might to read what he was feeling. But his emotions, the feeling of him... It was strange. They were there but she couldn't seem to read them no matter how hard she tried. What she felt was muddled and bland and watery. Despite his smile and laugh, despite the approval he garnered from the rest of the team, she would not be fooled. He was hiding something.

But that wasn't the only reason she needed to speak with him that morning.

She had kissed him. She couldn't believe she had actually kissed him.

* * *

She had finished her morning exercises. After an hour or so of meditation, she left her room and ventured out into the halls. It was after nine o'clock. She didn't expect him to be awake yet, but was going to see if he was regardless.

She was so stupid. Why did she have to kiss him like that?

Standing just outside his door with her fist raised tentatively in the air, she stood in pre-knocking position. A horde of hideous zombie mutants glowered at her from a poster as she stood and waited and tried to convince herself to do the simple action. Just knock. Standing there she convinced herself over and over again that she needed to speak to him.

She was just so certain. She wanted to do it. She needed to do it.

For years, as long as she could remember, she had experienced other people's emotions. How the people around her felt, how everyone around her felt about everything. For so long she was confused. The constant flood of emotions keeping her from ever truly understanding. Emotions preventing her from knowing emotions. As she got older and she learned how to focus, things became more clear. She had a better understanding of most of what she experienced. But still there was confusion. Some things remained unclear. It was why Terra was able to get away with what she did. It was why Malchior was able to do to her what he did.

For so long she wished for the day where she could be certain of what she felt.

His beautiful drawings. That same feeling that always preceded him whenever he approached her. The uneasiness of her stomach, the warmth in her chest, the taste of honey on her tongue. She could feel his heartbeat, pounding. It was all she could feel whenever she was around him. The way he smiled at her, the way he rubbed the back of his head and stammered in that cute way of his. She was so certain.

So she kissed him. A sweet peck at the corner of his mouth as she silently prayed he'd turn that quarter inch. Because she believed it was what he wanted, and she believed it was what she wanted as well.

The sad look on his face the day before. The feeling of a crushing weight on her chest as he turned and abruptly excused himself from her presence. It wasn't what she was expecting. And whatever she was so certain of before became drenched in confusion. After he left, she remembered, she had almost cried.

Bringing her knuckles quickly to the wood, she wrapped lightly on the door.

Silence.

She knocked again, this time a little louder.

Again silence.

"Beast Boy," she said, loud enough to be heard.

She was ready to turn and leave when suddenly the door opened and a shirtless Beast Boy suddenly filled the doorway. She wasn't expecting him to be awake. Or shirtless. She could feel a wild barrage of sensations overcoming her as she looked at his sleek well-toned body, the dark olive tone of his skin color; the definition of his muscles.

"Raven," she heard him say, his voice charming.

"I'm sorry," she replied. "I didn't mean to wake you."

He smiled at her. Not his usual wide toothy grin, but rather confident and even sexy.

"You didn't wake me," he said. "I've been up for about a half hour. Just doing some pushups and sit-ups. Stretching a bit." He smiled and leaned against the doorway.

If she didn't know better she would have sworn he was posing.

Still, despite his calm, relaxed demeanor what she felt from him was the same as the night before. His strange, muffled emotional aura. Her inability to read him. She needed to speak to him about it. But before she could say a word...

"Gosh you look beautiful today, Raven."

The comment took her completely by surprise. She felt heat rise to her face, she blinked her eyes and shook her head. The fact that she could feel nothing from him suddenly made her positive about what she felt in herself. She swallowed nervously and quietly stammered, "What?" She cleared her throat and said, "What?"

He leaned in closer to her, so close she could feel his body heat, and said, "I was just telling you how beautiful you are."

She stammered again, but this time nothing that could be described as words. Just simple uhs and ohs stumbled out of her mouth as she forgot completely why she had come to his room in the first place. She wasn't prepared for what he said next.

"Raven, I've been waiting to ask you this for way too long, but would you like to go out with me Friday night?"

* * *

Eyes crack open.

Blinking and squinting he pulled himself into a sitting position. All around him was black. Thick, unending darkness. It was a stark contrast to the bright white bed underneath him, the white carpet beneath that which circled around him for several yards, and the brilliant white light shinning down from up above him, glowing brightly from some unknown source.

"Where..?" he croaked.

He looked down at himself. He was wearing his purple and black doom patrol uniform. His belt was buckled and his laces were tied tight. He raised his legs and rotated on his rear and brought his feet to the white carpet. Although wearing boots, somehow he could still feel it, soft and plush as it yielded to his weight as he stood. He turned from side to side. Nothing but black on all sides save for the white of his immediate area. With nowhere else to go, he slowly he began inching forward toward the darkness.

Step.

Step.

Step.

Then bang, like the sound of flesh on glass.

"Huh?

Rubbing his head, he took a step back and then outstretched his hand. His fingertips pointed forward he approached the edge of the darkness. Then he felt it. Right where the white ended and the darkness began was a barrier. He felt his fingers and then his hands flatten against an invisible wall, cool and hard. Stepping and feeling he walked to his right and soon realized the barrier was all around him. An invisible circle, keeping him in the white.

He swallowed nervously and shouted. "Hey. Hey, what's going on here? Hello? Hello!?"

At first there was nothing, but then...

"Hello Beast Boy."

He jerked his head sharply in the direction of the voice. From out of the darkness he stepped. His face was a mirror of his own, save for a blank, unfeeling, uncaring, emotionless stare. His alternate self, staring at him from the other side of the barrier, like he was an animal exhibit. Seeing him, Beast Boy became confused and angry.

"What is this," he shouted. "What did you do to me?"

"Calm down," said his double, his voice even and dry. "There's no use struggling anymore. It's best that you just relax and enjoy the time you have left."

_Author's Note: The Tai Chi references in this chapter came from a guide I found online called Tai Chi "24 forms." I always imagined Raven doing Tai Chi. It just seemed like something that would suit her. As always tell me what you think._


	9. Chapter 9

It was a dull thumping, the thick reverberating gong of bone colliding with glass that emanated from the barrier. A kind of bwong sound, loud in his head and getting louder with each failed attempt.

Shifting into a ram he barreled horns and head first toward the invisible barrier. Bwong. The sound of his collision. The impact sent vibrations all down his chest through his stomach, down his arms and legs as he wobbled and dropped to the floor. After a few moments he'd stand shaking his head. He'd shift into a rhinoceros, an elephant, a tyrannosaurus rex, the largest and strongest animals he could think of, and try, try and try again, again and again. Each time would be no more successful than the last.

From the other side of the barrier, he could see him, his double, his alternate self watching him. His face, an unreadable emotionless mask. Not angry, remorseful, mocking, just blank. Empty. His eyes were open, but to Beast Boy they might as well not be. For all the lack of life he saw in those emerald eyes, so much like his own, this alternate him may as well be dead.

As a t-rex he stood tall and found no immediate ceiling. Transforming into a hawk he took off what he assumed was skyward. Flapping his wings so hard little green feathers fluttered out of him and to the white carpeted floor, he flew up and up and up into the blinding light. Closing his eyes, he flapped with all his strength, flying higher and higher. Flapping and flapping he continued to find no ceiling to his prison. Only air and white impeded him. Finally, like a shot, he suddenly found that he was no longer flying. With eyes still shut tight he could feel ground beneath him. Slowly his eyes opened, and he found himself looking down at his feet. His human feet and hands, pressed against white carpet. He looked up. The carpet, the bed, the black, the invisible barrier, the alternate him, everything was where it had been. He had not gone anywhere.

* * *

It's amazing how much you can miss someone even when they're standing right in front of you. For so many years she had ignored him, rejected him, wished that he would just leave her alone. But he never did. No matter what it always seemed that everyday he'd be there with a new joke to try and make her laugh or a new game to play or some new story to tell. She came to expect it. It was just the way he was. Then the jokes started becoming less frequent, the invitations stopped, the amount of time she could spend without being interrupted became greater, and she thought she was happy. She had even thanked him for it. But as the days went on, more and more she came to resent the silence she had once craved. More and more she found herself looking up from her book, looking at the door, looking at the sofa, listening and waiting for him to knock, to call her name - to ask for her. It was then she realized that it was true what they said: sometimes what we think we can't stand is the very thing we miss when it's gone.

She was lost in thought. Sitting at the kitchen table in the common room, with her hands folded in front of her and legs crossed one ankle over the other, she stared absentmindedly passed the furniture and carpeting of the room and out the large floor-to-ceiling windows. She sat and stared quietly as her mind pondered and puzzled and reasoned and worked out. The teakettle whistled loudly as the water inside came to a boil but still she remained seated, too distracted to notice. It wasn't until she felt a gentle pressure on her shoulder from a hard, strong hand that she came rushing back to reality.

"Yo, Rae," she heard a voice say. Whipping her head sharply up and to the right she saw Cyborg standing over her, his hand on her shoulder. "You know your tea's boiling," he said.

"Oh," was her reply. Shaking her head, she quickly got to her feet and hurried over to the stove, killed the heat and took the kettle off the burner. As she poured the boiling water into a mug and retrieved the tea bags she noticed Cyborg get some eggs from the refrigerator and pop some bread into the toaster. The banality of breakfast soon had her drifting back into her own head as she unconsciously dunked her teabag into her cup.

"RAVEN !"

"What?" She jumped slightly but thankfully didn't spill her tea as she turned and looked over her shoulder at Cyborg. A dizzying feeling came over her as she felt his confusion flow through her.

"I'm talking to you. Yo, are you okay?" he asked while opening the refrigerator and retrieving a carton of milk. "You seem really out of it today."

She didn't immediately respond, rather turned back to her steaming cup and removed the tea bag. After blowing lightly on the liquid she brought her lips to the cup and gently took a small sip. She reveled in the taste of the herbs on her tongue, the exhilarating heat that traveled down her throat. Behind her she could hear the kitchen cabinets opening and closing, and the sound of a glass lightly pinging against the counter top.

"Is there anything you want to talk about?" Cyborg prodded as he poured a tall glass of milk.

For all the time she had spent thinking, she never once considered what she was going to say to the rest of the team. There were a number of ways to approach it she supposed, but what was most easiest for her, what had always been her style, was to simply be straightforward and direct. So, after another sip of tea, she opened her mouth and said:

"Beast Boy asked me out on a date."

Immediately she heard coughing and sputtering as Cyborg gagged on his beverage, sending white misting out in front of him and onto the kitchen floor. "Come again," he managed to choke out.

She didn't bother to repeat herself. She knew he had heard her, he just needed a second or two to wrap his head around the bombshell she'd just dropped on him. So she simply took another sip of tea and waited.

"He actually asked you out?" said Cyborg finally after a few seconds.

Turning around, she nodded her head affirmatively and said, "Yes." Staring into Cyborg's bewildered face she felt the dizzying jolt of shock and awe. It was undoubtedly strong and yet not as strong as she figured it would be given the recent revelation. "Surprised?" she inquired as she nonchalantly leaned against the counter.

"Yeah- I mean I guess," he replied, correcting himself as if having quickly thought about it.

A moment of silence.

"I mean I didn't actually say I would go," said Raven, not waiting to be asked the question. "I said I'd have to think about it."

"I see," said Cyborg. "And have you?"

Raven's eyes fixed on Cyborg's before looking down at her mug and taking another sip. "Yes," she said. "But.."

"...Yeah."

Raven paused. It was somewhat unusual for her; she didn't usually talk about what was going on in her private life. But Cyborg had always been like a big brother to her and he was Beast Boy's best friend.

"We all agree Beast Boy's been acting strange."

Cyborg nodded. "Yeah, but he's owned up to it, right?"

For a moment Raven remembered Beast Boy and the fact that she could no longer sense his emotions the way she could before. She pondered telling Cyborg this, but for reasons she wasn't quite sure of, she hesitated. "I guess I'm just wondering if he's being serious or not about this," she said finally.

She realized how strange the statement was when she said it. This was in fact Beast Boy they were talking about. He lived for pranks and practical jokes, though considerably less so in recent years, and for a moment she considered of everything being one big joke at her expense. She looked up at Cyborg who had taken up a casual position leaning against the counter and now had a small smirk on his face.

"Rae, I've never lied to you," he said. "So you can believe me when I say if there's one thing in this entire multiverse that BB does take seriously, it's you." He crossed his large powerful arms in front of his chest. "I mean he's nuts about you. And trust me, He's wanted to ask you out forEVER."

Standing there, listening to Cyborg speak, Raven could hardly believe her ears.

"Look," said Cyborg continuing. "I'm not going say go running into the guys arms or nothing, but I think you should at least give him a chance."

Again Raven looked down into the contents of her mug, allowing everything Cyborg had said to sink in. It was true; Cyborg had never lied to her and she had no reason to believe he would do so now nor did she think he was exaggerating when he spoke of how Beast Boy supposedly felt for her. It all gave her serious pause. She wasn't sure how long she may have stood there if at that moment her and Cyborg's communicators started beeping.

"Everyone," said the tiny image of Robin, clearly sending an all points message. "Surprise training session at the obstacle course in five minutes."

* * *

It was something he liked to do. The Titans had a regular training regiment, but Robin always enjoyed throwing them curveballs now and again. "It'll keep you on your toes" was his explanation. None of them ever knew when he'd pop in and announce a surprise training session, send them a message to meet him for a mission briefing only to unleash a team of training droids on them. It drove Raven insane much in the way it did everyone else. None of them would complain though. That is none of them except for Beast Boy who was never hesitant about voicing his objection, usually accompanying it with a smart-alecky comment. It used to bother her. Used to, but now she viewed it as just another thing that defined him. That's why what followed at the obstacle course was so unusual.

"Alright," said Robin. "Who wants to go first?"

"I'll go," said Beast Boy, stepping forward.

Even without her empathic powers, Raven could easily tell by the look on everyone's faces that they were surprised. Beast Boy never volunteered to go first for anything that involved work.

"Alright." Robin stepped aside allowing Beast Boy room to get his mark. "Cyborg."

Cyborg punched a few buttons on his wrist device, bringing up a timer. He asked Beast Boy if he was ready and when the changeling gave an enthused "You know it" he raised his arm canon in the air and after a moment or two fired a single shot, signaling Beast Boy to begin. What followed was a performance that none of them expected.

Beast Boy, of course, was a shape shifter, specifically he turned into animals. He did it all the time. It was how he fought, how he relaxed, how he moved, joked and (on rare occasion) even ate. It was what made him comfortable. It was what he was good at. Running the outdoor obstacle course, he'd be constantly changing shape, dodging laser fire as a humming bird, vaulting over walls and barriers as a kangaroo, running straight-aways as a cheetah. On days when he was really focused he was a green blur of feathers, fur, teeth and claws as he jumped, ducked and ran across the rocky terrain of Titan island. It was what he did. It was what was expected from him. On this day, however, what the team saw was something entirely different. On this day he didn't transform. Rather he sprinted headlong into the field in human form, using his own natural instincts to evade damage and move from obstacle to obstacle. Furthermore he was amazingly successful. Not a single shot touched him as he somersaulted over barriers, moving with incredible grace and speed. It was like watching Robin run the course only (and no one would say this out loud) better.

Watching Beast Boy run the obstacle course using only his human form, Raven had to admit she was confused, however, she would have been lying to say that she wasn't also very, very impressed. Watching him, the fluidity of his movements as he flexed and strained, she could feel her heart beat faster and heat rising to her cheeks, and even though her hood was up, she still felt the need to cover them with her hands lest anyone see.

After Beast Boy dashed through an electronic sensor at the end of the course a buzzer went off and Cyborg yelled, "Time," officially bringing an end to the performance. Reading the time aloud (which was, of course, very impressive) the metallic titan turned to Beast Boy and shouted a hearty, "Nice goin B!" Starfire clapped her hands together and levitated a few feet in the air, a large smile on her face as she too congratulated Beast Boy. Even Robin gave a small round of applause.

"Thank you, thank you," said Beast Boy, holding up his hands and mock-pleading for order. "I'll be here all week."

Raven then watched as he suddenly made eye contact with her. He smiled warmly at her and winked. She could feel another blush coming on when suddenly she realized something. Oblivious to Beast Boy she noticed a small trickle of blood running down from out of his nose and down his lips. Cyborg noticed it too and spoke before she could say anything.

"Uh hey, B" he said. "You know you're bleeding, man."

Beast Boy's face scrunched in face in confusion. He sniffled a bit and then ran the back of his hand under his nostrils, leaving a big red smear from his index finger to his wrist. His eyes temporarily widened in shock before he smiled again and said: "Must of accidently bumped my nose or something." He seemed about to excuse himself when a short but loud coughing fit came over him. A loud, wet cough sputtered from out his mouth, throwing droplets of blood onto the front of his uniform. Holding his chest, he turned to the rest of them and quickly but calmly said, "Excuse me for a sec," before making his way back into the tower.

"You okay, Beast Boy?" shouted Robin.

"I'm fine," he shouted back and then quickly dashed into the front doors.

As she watched him leave, Raven could feel a nausea in the pit of her stomach. Though her face didn't show it, she was deeply worried.

* * *

After a few minutes Cyborg had taken his run at the course and Beast Boy had still not returned.

"I believe it would be best if someone went and checked out on him," said Starfire, noticeably concerned.

"You're right, Star, someone should check up on him," said Robin, discreetly correcting her.

Before she even knew she was saying it, Raven suddenly found herself volunteering and without even waiting for confirmation teleported back into the halls of titan tower. Moving swiftly, she hovered down the corridor until she was just outside Beast Boy's room.

"Beast Boy," she called, giving a gentle knock on the door. "Are you okay?" She called his name again and gave another more forceful knock.

"Gimmie one second," she heard a muffled voice call from the other side. She heard the flushing of a toilet and a few moments later the door opened and the green teen was in front of her looking no worse for wear. "Hey Raven," he said, smiling.

"The others sent me to check up on you," she said quickly as feelings that could only be hers came rushing back to the forefront. Though she tried, the same muddled, bland feeling where his emotions should be was still there, blocking her from truly reading him.

"Aw, that's so thoughtful" he said tilting his head comically to one side.

"Are you okay?" she said, looking him seriously in the eye.

"Yeah," he said waving off her concern. "I know it looked bad, but coughing with a bloody nose will do that."

She felt a small amount of relief as she turned slightly away, ready to leave. "Well, as long as that's it."

She was ready to leave. She was going to leave, but she stopped. She remembered back to a few hours ago, when he'd asked her out. He was becoming more and more appealing to her on a daily basis. Being near him now, she realized just how much she enjoyed his presence, the warm feelings he stirred up inside her that she could know without a shadow of a doubt were hers. She wanted more. She never wanted it to end. She hadn't asked him what he was hiding, nor had she told anyone of her suspicions. Perhaps, she figured, she did not want there to be anything wrong.

"Beast Boy," she said suddenly. "About that date."

* * *

"There is no need to keep fighting, Beast Boy."

His alternate self's voice echoed off the invisible walls of the black chamber. Much the same as the copy's face there was no malice or anger in it, just dull, bland, lifeless nothing. When it spoke it never made eye contact rather it seemed to just assume he would hear it.

Still breathing heavy from all the expended effort, Beast Boy turned and faced the copy, saying, "Where am I?"

"That is not important," was his alternate self's reply.

His eyes flared in anger. "It is to me," he shouted. "You lied to me. You said I'd no longer exist when you took over cause I would be you or you would be me or some crap. Now I'm in...some...where the hell am I?" He was becoming belligerent. He was frustrated and scared. But his alternate self remained unmoved.

"I'm sorry, Beast Boy," it said. "It was nothing personal. I don't like to lie, but...I just wanted my life."

Beast Boy began pacing in his cell. A regular animal in a cage. Looking at his alternate self a question suddenly popped into his head. "Why do you keep saying that?" he said.

The copy paused for a moment and then said: "I don't expect you to understand.

Beast Boy turned away from the self, frustrated as it continued to speak.

"But you should know," it continued. "The room you are currently in is only as much a prison as you make it."

As the copy spoke it's words became smaller, more distant. Turning quickly around Beast Boy was shocked to find neither the copy nor the blackness, but rather a long stretch of sandy beach with a glowing red sunset slowly burning in an evening sky as waves slid and stretched across the shore. Whipping his head from side to side he saw that the environment had changed all around him. Sand crunched underneath his now bare feet. He clutched his chest and found not his uniform but a white, lose fitting collared shirt, slightly unbuttoned, and a comfortable pair of tan cargo shorts. He felt a gentle soothing breeze caress his face and with each breath he could taste the clean sea air.

"Whu..." was all he could utter as he looked around in complete bewilderment. Then his ears twitched.

"Garfield."

The voice came on soft the first time.

"Garfield."

Slightly stronger the next.

Turning around 360 his eyes scanned the environment, looking for the source of the voice. After a few moments he saw her. Standing where the ocean met the shore, the waves tickling her ankles. Her face, calm and serene, her eyes warm and inviting, she beckoned to him.

His throat suddenly dry, he struggled to speak until finally he managed to whisper, "Raven?"


	10. Chapter 10

_A/N: This chapter jumps around a lot. I don't think it's that hard to follow, but just a fair warning, there's a lot of changing perspectives, locations, and time periods. Keep an eye out for the "Then" and "Now" cues which signify when a scene is taking place in the past and when it's taking place in the present. Anyway, I hope you like it._

It was difficult to make her out in the dim glow of the falling sun, but it was definitely her. He could never mistake those eyes, that hair, that figure. Slipped daintily into the confines of a long, form fitting black sun dress, she faced him and smiled softly before turning her attention back to the shimmering sea.

In an alternate reality she could not have looked more beautiful.

Kicking sand and stumbling slightly, he ran to her. As he got closer his speed decreased until he was finally standing still before her. He watched as she slowly turned to him and smiled a small nearly unnoticeable smile. Raven's smile.

"Hello, Garfield," she said, her voice soft and comforting. "It is good to see you."

Trying to come to terms with what was happening around him, Beast Boy stammered slightly as he took a small tentative step towards the girl in front of him and said: "Raven? Where did you come from? Where are we?"

She smiled and shook her head. "None of that matters," she said, taking a step as well, closing the gap between them. "All that matters is that we're here now, together."

He was about to speak again when she placed a finger on his lips, shushing him.

"There's no need to worry anymore," she said. "Just relax. Let it go. Give in."

She closed her eyes and slowly she began leaning into him, bringing her lips close to his. Seeing her do this, Beast Boy felt his heart beat quicken and his stomach bounce wildly inside his body. Slowly he too closed his eyes and began bringing his lips to hers. He didn't understand what was happening, but at the moment he didn't care. All that mattered was that Raven was here in front of him, comforting him, wanting him. It was his dream.

The loud clapping rang out across the shoreline as tiny pinpricks spread suddenly across his cheek, the sobering stinging sensation of an open hand slap. His eyes snapped open and now the Raven in front him was in full uniform, her arms crossed in front of her chest, her eyes sharp and narrowed. Suddenly she was Raven again. Taking a small step back, he was struggling to find the words to say when the girl in front of him moved her hands to her hips and said:

"What the hell is the matter with you?"

* * *

_Then_

She watched with bored eyes as the green 15-year-old zipped rapidly back and forth from the pots on the stove to the microwave to the chopping block, all the while saying things like, "Whoops" "shoot" and "crap." Boiling pots overflowed, spilling their contents on the stovetop, hissing and bubbling. She cringed as he unwittingly reached for a hot handle without an oven mitt only to yelp in surprise and unwittingly drop the pot to the floor with a loud clang, throwing boiling water and fresh cut vegetables everywhere. "Crap" he said again as he immediately thrust his wounded hand under the running water of the faucet.

"Beast Boy," she heard Robin say suddenly. "It's alright, we can just order some pizza."

Flexing his hand under the streaming water, his brow furrowed in discomfort, he looked over his shoulder at the four of them sitting at the table, plates, knives and forks already in front of them, and said: "No, I promised to make you guys a healthy, vegetarian friendly meal you'd all love and I'm going to do it."

"If you don't burn the tower down first," she said suddenly.

"Ha ha, Raven," he said toweling off his hand. "Veeerrryy funny."

There was a loud hiss as another pot on the stove began boiling over. Beast Boy gasped in surprise and went for the handle, only to pull his hand back yet again in pain and surprise and knock the new pot to the floor as well.

"Dammit," he shouted.

* * *

_Now_

She never thought she'd actually get any use out of it. Except for Starfire, nobody in the tower even knew she had it. It was the product of one faithful day when the Tameranean had managed to convince her to go shopping with her. Looking at herself in the mirror, holding the dainty piece of black fabric to her small frame, she remembered.

"Please Raven," Starfire had said. "You should own at least one dress. What if you should need it?"

"Why would I ever need a dress?" she remembered saying back.

"Well," said Starfire. "What if you meet a man and he wishes to take you on a date?"

"Yeah, sure," she said. "That'll be the day."

Standing in her room, the little black satin dress hugging the curves of her body, showing only a tiny amount of cleavage, going down to just past her knees, she looked at herself in the mirror. She sighed nervously and said: "I guess today's the day."

He had asked her to meet him on the roof of the tower at precisely eight o'clock. When she asked how come they couldn't go out for their date, he assured her that he would take care of everything. He had spent much of the afternoon in the kitchen cooking, which she had to admit had her somewhat nervous. However, as she made her way up the final block of stairs an incredible aroma wafted its way into her nostrils, a zesty, invigorating smell that tickled her taste buds and drove her forward. Making her way up the last steps she reached the entrance to the roof, turned the handle and pushed open the door. What she found stunned her.

There against the evening sun, stood Beast Boy. He wore a red button down dress shirt, opened to reveal a plain white t-shirt underneath. He had on tan, somewhat baggy, khakis, brown dress shoes and had a black fedora hat resting on the top of his head. He smiled at her, removed his hat and bowed.

"M' lady," he said, looking up from his bow and grinning.

She rolled her eyes at him and yet at the same time couldn't help a tiny smile from pulling at the corner of her mouth. It was then that she noticed the table. It was nothing more than a spare foldaway table from their storage space, but Beast Boy had at made the effort to make it presentable, covering it with a clean white table cloth. Two places were set. There was a basket of freshly baked rolls sitting in the middle along with two tall glasses filled with ice water, two sets of silverware and two covered dishes. As she made her way to the table, she suddenly saw Beast Boy smoothly zip in front of her and slide out her chair. He said nothing, only looked at her and smiled. She was somewhat surprised by the gesture. Beast Boy was never known to have the best manners, and in all honesty, she never really expected nor desired any such treatment. Still, she nodded approvingly and took her seat. Once she did so, he deftly reached over and removed the silver cover in front of her, unveiling her meal. Her eyes widened ever so slightly, though on the inside she was quite taken back.

"Beast Boy," she said, looking down at the thick white noodles laying about one another in what appeared to be a very creamy and delicious white sauce. "This looks great." She took a deep inhale of the aroma steaming from the plate and let out a small sigh of contentment.

"Oh it's nothing special," said Beast Boy, moving to the other side of the table and taking his own seat in front of a similar dish. "Just fettucini alfredo."

"I had no idea you could make this," she said picking up her fork and starting to dig through the pasta.

"It's not that hard, really," said Beast Boy. "I made the sauce myself. Mostly you can make it with just Parmesan cheese, but I prefer to include a blend of Mozzarella, Provolone, Romano and Fontina too. It gives it a better flavor."

Raven paused. With her first bite of pasta swaying back and forth from her fork, she suddenly remembered who she was with. Despite the appeal of the meal in front of her she took a moment to stare at the boy in front of her. A strange unsettling feeling nibbled at her insides and for a brief instant she felt as if something wasn't right. The feeling then passed however as she took her first bite. She smiled to herself. It was delicious.

* * *

The beach was gone. The miles of shoreline, the sparkling ocean, the gentle breeze, everything was gone in an instant. Now instead both Beast Boy and the Raven in front of him stood in an epically long hallway with no end in sight in either direction, the grey walls and tiles and the florescent light fixtures of which reminded him of the halls of Titans Tower.

"What the hell is the matter with you?" the angry Raven said again.

"What?" he stammered.

"If you think I'm just going to let you rollover and quit then you've got another thing coming," she answered. She then turned and began an angry and determined march down the massive hallway.

For a moment he merely watched her as she stormed away from him, before finally collecting himself enough to follow suit. "Wait," he called out to her. "Raven, wait."

"I really can't believe you," she said, not bothering to stop. " You're so much smarter than this."

"What are you talking about?" he said, now keeping pace beside her. "What's going on? What is this place?"

She looked at him coldly. "Don't ask questions you already know the answers to," she said.

He could feel his patience wearing thin as more confusion overcame him like an ocean wave. "What are you talking about? I just woke up here. I don't have a freakin' clue what's happening."

Suddenly Raven stopped. She pivoted sharply and faced him, her expression serious. "Yes you do." she said solemnly.

He looked into her eyes. He looked down for a moment, sighed and then looked back up. "Please," he said, his eyes pleading for reason. "Please, just tell me where I am."

"You already know," she answered calmly. "Just think for a moment. Listen. Relax."

Not knowing what else to do, he simply stopped. He stopped everything. His eyes lost focus, he slowed his breathing and just let his thoughts wander. Suddenly the environment around him flickered. Like a television with a bad connection he saw the walls and ceiling stretch and distort and fuzz then return to normal. Then suddenly it came to him and the words slipped out of his mouth so naturally, for a moment he hardly realized he had said them.

"I'm in my own mind."

* * *

_Then_

It was coming through the walls- that nauseatingly grating sound- and it was driving her insane. She couldn't read, she couldn't meditate, not while her ears were being assaulted by that awful electronic crunching, that stomach turning racket. Throwing down the book she'd been struggling to read for the past half-hour, she stormed out of her room and down the hall. As she got closer to her destination, the noise grew louder until finally she was right on top of it. Raising a hand, she gave the door in front of her a firm knock. There was no reply. Only more noise. She raised her hand again and pounded on the door.

"Beast Boy," she shouted.

Still only noise.

She pounded harder and shouted, "Beast Boy," once more. Again and again, she shouted his name, trying in desperation to get his attention over the deafening cacophony. "Beast Boy! Beast Boy!" She closed her eyes and simply shouted, "Beast Boy." Suddenly on about the fifth or sixth "Beast Boy," she realized the noise had stopped. She opened her eyes and realized the door was now open and the green teen was standing right in front of her, brand new cherry red, Fender Stratocaster electric guitar in hand, the harsh hum of a MG102FX 100 watt Marshall amplifier in the background.

"You don't have to scream Rave," said Beast Boy. "I'm right here."

She could almost hear the rim shot.

Taking a deep breath, she composed herself.

"Beast Boy," she said. "Would you please stop making so much racket? I'm trying to read."

He tilted his head to the side and looked at her, confused innocence on his face, and said:

"What racket?"

She could feel herself beginning to lose it once more. "Just turn down the volume," she practically seethed.

He smiled and shook his head from side to side sympathetically saying, "Oh Raven. If only I could. But that's just not how rocking is supposed to work. You just can't turn it down." Bending his knees and arching his back, he struck a dramatic rock pose, his voice raising an octave. "You need to crank that shit up to eleven, rip off the knob and blow down the walls." He stuck the strings of his guitar and another nauseating torrent of distorted noise came rushing out of the room. "Don't worry. I'm sure someday you'll understand."

Raven glared angrily at him. "Beast Boy," she hissed through her teeth.

But he had already closed the door.

* * *

_Now_

The sun was just starting to kiss the horizon.

The meal had tasted as good as it smelled, and Raven was slightly embarrassed to admit she hadn't left anything on her plate. As she sat, full and content she then noticed Beast Boy get up from his seat and begin walking toward the door.

"Beast Boy?" she questioned.

"Be right back. Just going to get the after dinner entertainment," he said with a smile then exited the roof.

For a minute she sat in comfortable silence watching as the sun bled over the horizon, bit by bit disappearing from sight, until finally the sound of the door opening and closing alerted her to Beast Boy's return. She turned to him and felt a slight pang of dread as she saw in his hand his cherry red, Fender Stratocaster. In his other hand, as opposed to his 100 watt amp, was his considerably smaller 30 watt. This worried her less, but still worried her. She had never been much of a fan of Beast Boy's music, but after such wonderful meal could not find it in herself to turn him away. After plugging in the amplifier via extension cord he turned to her and gave her a confident smile.

"This is for you, Raven," he said and began strumming.

Raven braced herself, but what she heard was not the metallic grinding she was used to, rather it was soft and smooth and very melodic. It tickled her senses and made her see swirls of patterns and colors. Then he started to sing, not the scratchy tone deaf screeching as she expected, but rather something that was sweet and calming that melded with the music, making it whole. The lyrics, she came to realize as she listened, were about her, about her beauty, about his love for her, about how she made him feel.

Thinking back on it, she realized it was a sweet gesture. She had never in all her years imagined a guy would ever write a song about her, yet as she sat there, listening, watching him, she couldn't help but feel uncomfortable. If it had been anyone else in the entire world, in the entire cosmos, maybe it would have been okay. The only problem was that it wasn't anyone else, it was Beast Boy.

* * *

"How did I get here?"

He knew the words before she even spoke them, moving his lips in time with hers, perfectly matching her response.

"He put you here after you let him in."

He tilted his head down and closed his eyes. Listening to her now, her voice seemed to be coming from no one place, but rather from all around him.

"He didn't need you anymore, but he couldn't simply get rid of you, so instead he trapped you," said Raven's voice swirling around his head from the front to the back to the front again.

"You're not really Raven, are you?" He didn't wait for a response before he started speaking the answer. His voice was a low whisper and hers was an echo. "No, I'm not the real Raven. I'm just a distraction. Something to keep me busy. Something to stop me from fighting."

"You can't let him win."

"Why not? Why should I bother fighting him. He's a better Beast Boy than I could ever hope to be. He's stronger. He's smarter. He's perfect."

On that he opened his eyes. There was no longer an endless stretch of gray hallway before him, but rather a plain wooden door with a brass handle. Reaching out a closed fist he gave a firm knock. When he was met with no reply he reached and slowly turned the handle. It made an audible click and slowly the door pushed open. Before he even knew it his feet were moving and suddenly he was already inside. Once there he found himself surrounded by white walls and white tile floor, and on each wall there hung dozens of paintings. He began walking up and down the room, examining each painting. There was Vincent van Gogh's _Starry Night_, Edvard Munch's _The Scream, _Salvador Dali's_ Persistence of Memory_, as well as dozens of others. Not that he knew any of them by name, but he still recognized them. After all they were great works of art. They reflected the kind of excellence he wished to achieve for himself.

But then he stopped. He stopped and stared at the piece in front of him. It was Monet's _Water Lilly Pond_. Without even realizing it he began moving closer to the painting. Closer and closer he got, compelled to do so by something that he could not fully realize, until his face was right in front of it. Now he could no longer see the work itself but rather just blobs of color. Ugly, random shapes mashed together seemingly without purpose. He then took a step back. And another and another until once again the entire masterpiece was in full view. Now he could see as clear as day. All the little blotches, all the little imperfections, he saw them coming together and making something complete, something beautiful. One by one, he did the same for the other paintings. Dozens of masterpieces, made up of thousands of brushstrokes, all working together to paint just the right image.

It was then he knew what he had to do.

He turned and was surprised to find suddenly find himself staring at...himself. But not the alternate him. Not the other him. There in the middle of the white room, he simply saw himself, him, Beast Boy, looking back, smiling. He nodded and returned the smile. He then closed his eyes.

* * *

_Then_

With another exasperated sigh she buried her face in her hands. Behind her she could hear the young changeling shifting back and forth on his feet, the dry, salty taste of apprehension was evident on her tongue.

"Aw come on, Raven," he said taking a step towards her. "I didn't think you were supposed to let things like this get to you."

She buried her face deeper then slid her palms up so they only covered her eyes. "I'm not," she said. She then recalled the devastatingly embarrassing scene that had just taken place. "But it was just so...humiliating." She could sense him take another step towards her. "I mean how would you feel if you had done something like that?"

He chuckled. "I do do stuff like that," he said.

"Oh....right," she said.

He took several steps closer until he plopped down right beside her and put a comforting hand on her shoulder. Normally she would have knocked it away, but this time was different, this time she welcomed it.

"Look," he said. "Life's all about doing stupid things. Everyone does stupid things." He gestured to himself. "Some more than others. I mean look at me. I do embarrassing stuff every day, but you know what I do?"

She shook her head.

"I roll with it. I walk it off. I don't let it get to me. That's what you need to do, Rave. Don't let it get to you. Otherwise it's going to affect everything else in your life, and as someone who constantly needs you to pull his butt out of the fire, that's something I just can't allow."

At that, she looked up from her palms. She pulled down her hood and turned to the smiling boy sitting next to her. Unable to help herself she reached her arms out quickly and embraced him. It was only the second time she'd ever done so. She felt him go rigid and the salty taste deepened, but he didn't pull away. Instead he returned the embrace, slowly raising his arms and resting his hands on her back.

"Don't ever change, Beast Boy," she said aloud. "Don't ever change."

* * *

_Now_

The last few rays of sunlight were burning out just as Beast Boy finished his song. Sitting there, she watched him strum the last chord, pretending to listen, but in reality deep in thought. Beast Boy had been a perfect gentlemen and the effort he had put into putting everything together had amazed her. But still...

"This isn't right," she murmured loudly.

Beast Boy didn't seem to hear her as he put his guitar back in its case. Afterwards he turned and faced her. He made his way over to where she was seated and offered her his hands. Despite her reluctance she accepted them and he pulled her to her feet.

"Did you enjoy yourself tonight?" he asked.

She suddenly found it difficult to look him in the eyes, though not for the right reasons. "Yes" she managed. "But..."

"I did it all for you, Raven," he interrupted. "Because you're worth it."

"Thank you," she said, quietly.

She should have been enjoying herself more than she was. After all the evening had been wonderful. Good food, good entertainment, a wonderful host. It had been perfect. But maybe that was the problem

"Beast Boy," she said, looking down and to the side for a moment. "There's something we need to talk about."

"No," he said, surprising her. "There's nothing else to say."

At that she looked up and was shocked to suddenly feel Beast Boy's lips pressed firmly against her own, kissing her with fever and passion. He forcibly took her into his arms, claiming her as his own. It was her first real kiss. And it was also the final straw. Furrowing her brow angrily, she threw back her hands and gave her would be Lothario a hard shove in the shoulders, knocking him back several steps.

"What the hell?!" she shrieked wiping her mouth.

Beast Boy was confused. "I don't understand. What's wrong?"

She looked at him and narrowed her eyes in suspicion. "Alright, who are you?"

Beast Boy went pale then attempted a smile. "W-What?" he stammered. "I'm Beast Boy," he said nervously. "You know that."

"No," said Raven. She began walking towards him. With each step she took she watched him take an equal step back. "Beast Boy, even at his most arrogant, his most insane and his most stupid would never dream of attempting something like that." She continued marching as he continued back peddling until they finally reached the edge of the roof. "So tell me. WHO are you?"

* * *

In an instant he was back, back in the prison he had seen when he first arrived, and there in the same place as before was his alternate self. With determination on his face Beast Boy walked across the floor toward the other him. He stopped when he reached the barrier.

"I'm only going to ask you once," he said. "Let me out and give me back my body."

The alternate him stared back at him blankly. "It's my body. I'm Beast Boy now."

Breaking eye contact, Beast Boy looked around him at the invisible barrier. He then raised his hand and gently moved forward until his fingers felt the glass like resistance. Flattening his palm against the surface, he gave a gentle push. There was a soft cracking sound. He pushed harder. There was more cracking, this time louder than before, and suddenly several jagged clear lines raced out from beneath his palm, hovering in the air. Beast Boy smirked. He then took several steps back, crossing the room, giving himself a good running start.

"I guess you were right," he said. "This place is only as much a prison as I make it."

His alternate self stared at him. "You're going to regret this," he said.

Ignoring him, Beast Boy shifted into a rhinoceros. He brushed the floor with his massive foot and charged, shattering the barrier on impact and leaping out into the black.

* * *

Raven took several steps back when suddenly the Beast Boy in front of her screamed in agony and clutched his temples. Her eyes widened in horror as blood began streaming from his nose and he began hacking and coughing, doubling over and screaming again.

"What's wrong?" she finally managed to shout, but he didn't answer.

She then realized, too late, how very close he was to the edge of the roof. She could only watch as he screamed again, he threw himself backward and inadvertently tumbled over the side.


	11. Chapter 11

He was falling. Or maybe he was really flying. Whatever was happening it was overwhelming. No sooner had he knocked down the barriers of his mind than suddenly he was bombarded with sounds and images. Everywhere he turned he saw and heard them. All his memories, personal thoughts and feelings, all his inner machinations flooded his senses. His body had a strange uneasiness to it. He felt light and queasy, like his insides were floating around, bumping against the inner walls of his body. Pressing his hands to his ears he squeezed his eyes shut. Deep down he prayed for it to stop. He wished for someplace quiet. He wished for someplace peaceful.

Suddenly he became still. The uneasy feeling in his guts disappeared and the chaos around him vanished. What felt like soft ground pressed against his knees and he chanced to open one eye. What he saw was miles and miles of green field stretching far beyond his capacity for sight. Turning his attention above he saw a bright blue sky and a brilliant yellow sun shining down on him. He felt compelled to ask aloud where he was but instead remained silent. He could only assume he was still within his own mind. He had no sooner rose to his feet when suddenly there was a voice behind him.

"You need to go back."

Spinning around he found his alternate self standing only a few yards away from him. His face was stern and tense, his eyes glaring. It would seem the life had returned to him. "You need to stop what you're doing and wall yourself back up before it's too late."

Beast Boy looked deep into the double's eyes and a defiant smirk slowly spread across his face. He looked down and gently shook his head. "Nah," he said. "I think what I really need to do is stop listening to you."

The double was silent.

"And you know what else. It seems to me that you have no real power over me anyway. You weren't keeping me in that cell. I was. And you know what else else? I'm done with you. If you're really something that exists inside me, then I'm deciding right now that I don't need you and I don't want you, so why don't you just buzz off?"

The double remained silent. Slowly he looked down. A breeze blew across the field and suddenly his body was becoming transparent. Slowly he continued to fade until finally he could no longer be seen and once again Beast Boy was alone.

Beast Boy nodded affirmatively and turned to continue on his way, where ever that may have been. However, he had no sooner faced the opposite direction when suddenly he felt something collide with bridge of his nose, knocking him to the ground. Stars filled his eyes as he struggled to collect himself. Once he had, he looked up to find his alternate self standing over him, his fists clenched tightly.

"You think because you exercised a little free will and got yourself out of that prison that you can just wish me away like I never existed? I may have needed you to let me in before, but now that I'm here I'm not going to just leave." The double's eyes were burning with furious anger. His body was rigid and tight, ready for battle. "Now I'm not going to tell you again," he hissed. "Get back inside your cell."

Beast Boy climbed to his feet. His eyes defiant. The blow to his nose had really hurt. He didn't know who this Beast Boy was or how to get rid of him, but one thing was certain: he was done being ordered around by him. He struck a ready stance. His double did the same.

"You'll only end up hurting yourself," it said.

Cue the final battle.

* * *

Driving her hand into the large red button on the other side of the door, she immediately heard the Titan Alarm begin reverberating throughout the stairwell and the rest of the tower. She grunted slightly with exertion as she struggled to keep the unconscious Beast Boy, or whoever he was, suspended in a field of black energy behind her.

She'd paused for only a moment after watching the green teenager go tumbling off the side of the tower. After that, instinct took over and she immediately threw herself over the side after him. Feeling the air surging across her thinly covered body, she soared down towards him and thrust a black energy field around his body, easing him out of the fall and then bringing him back up to the roof. She had to admit she was scared. She remembered laying him down flat on his back. His eyes were closed and he wasn't moving. The blood from his nose was already beginning to dry on his lips and chin and had already stained the front of his white t-shirt. Suddenly fearing for his safety, she remembered calling out to him.

"Beast Boy," she said. Her suspicions were still running high, but at the moment her concern prevented her from calling him anything else. "Beast Boy," she said again, lightly shaking him. Still he was unresponsive. She could feel her hands beginning to shake and immediately she calmed herself. Gathering the unconscious teen once more in her black energy field she carried him back inside the Tower where she activated the manual Titan alarm (one of several Cyborg had installed all over the tower for emergencies). She then immediately teleported both of them to the medical bay. After setting the young man down on the nearest bed, her communicator began to beep.

"Raven, are you there?" Robin's voice crackled over the two-way. "The alarms are going off."

"I know," she answered. "I'm in the medical bay. There's something wrong with Beast Boy." She turned to the teen in question still lying motionless in the hospital bed. She felt sick. It hurt her to see him like this, even someone who looked like him."If it is Beast Boy."

"What?" said Robin. "What do you mean by that?"

She didn't answer. She just told him to get the others and hurry over as fast as they could.

It was then that it happened. Like an avalanche, a fifteen foot high ocean wave, it hit her. A veritable explosion of emotion racing into her body, anger, fear, sorrow, flooding her senses so suddenly and so violently it nearly knocked her to the ground. The feeling was unlike anything she'd felt in a long time. Grabbing her temples she squeezed her eyes shut and concentrated. With all her will she focused on drowning out the burning, the freezing, the sweet, the bitter, all the sensations that now flooded her being. Finally the attack subsided and she was once again able to breathe easy. She turned to Beast Boy who still lay motionless in the hospital bed. There was no doubt the surge of emotion had come from him. But still she found it difficult to believe. What she had just experienced, it was unnatural. No human being should have been capable of something like that.

Slowly she approached the motionless green teen. She then rested her fingers gently on either side of his head. "I'm sorry for this," she said. "But I need to know what's going on in there." She closed her eyes and concentrated. And soon she felt her soul self leaving her body and venturing into his mind.

To her surprise, however, she didn't get far.

She had no sooner entered then suddenly she was overwhelmed by a terrible pain. She shrieked in agony as her soul self was ravaged by an unseen force. She attempted to preserver, driving forward deeper into Beast Boy's subconscious, but the further she went the more the pain intensified. Something was trying to keep her out. Finally she could take no more. She broke concentration and could once again feel her soul self retreating back into her body, the pain decreasing in severity along the way. With a snap she was whole again. Slowly she opened her eyes to realize she was on the ground and the rest of the Titans were now standing over her.

"Oh Raven," cried Starfire, clearly upset. "Are you hurt?"

"What happened?" interjected Robin.

Finding her strength, she stood as Cyborg grabbed her under her arms and steadied her. A major puzzle piece had just fallen into place. Looking to her teammates she took a deep breath.

"The Beast Boy we've been talking to for at least the last few days isn't really Beast Boy," she said firmly.

The team looked to the motionless green boy lying in the bed then back to Raven.

"That is not Beast Boy?" asked Starfire, deeply worried.

Raven shook her head. "No, it's him," she said. "I'm sure it's him. But...I don't think he's alone."

The team looked at her, puzzled.

"I tried to enter his mind just now," she said. "And I think there's something else in there with him."

* * *

He honestly didn't know what he was doing, if he was winning or if such a thing was even possible given the circumstances. He didn't know if this was all really happening. He was after all in his own head. Did that mean this was all even real or had he and his double now merely become thoughts, just a pair of electrical synapses surging through a complex network of nerves? Whatever the answer, he knew one thing for sure, as he was sent crashing to the ground from another blow from his opponent, the pain he was feeling was most assuredly real and self preservation was only possible if he fought back.

Quickly hand springing back up to his feet, he transformed into a massive buffalo and charged. His alternate self countered, turning into kangaroo and leaping into the air, clearing the attack. Beast Boy then felt a sudden blow to his back and the air go rushing from his lungs as his double came crashing down on him in the form of a 400 pound gorilla. It then began clubbing him on the back and head with its powerful paws. Transforming into an elephant he shook wildly and threw the beast from his back. Charging he attempted to stomp the double into the ground. The alternate him was too quick, however, turning into a sparrow and flying between his legs. He felt another sharp blow sting his side as a tyrannosaurus tail whipped him hard, knocking him to the ground, making him loose his concentration and turn back to human form.

"This is pointless," said his alternate self, shifting back into human form as well. "Face it, Beast Boy, I'm better than you."

Despite his pain, Beast Boy smirked as he once again pulled himself to a standing position. "Yeah," he said with a wincing smile. "You and a lot of people. So don't go thinking you're special."

Again Beast Boy charged, this time in the form of a snorting long horned bull. His double quickly countered, turning into a sasquatch, grabbing a horn in each hand, lifting him in the air and body slamming him to the ground.

"Stop fighting so hard," his double shouted, almost pleading. "You have no idea what you're doing." There was worry in his voice. "And anyway you're not going to beat me. I'm everything you're not. I'm strong, smart, clever, witty, I actually know how to play the guitar, I'm charming-"

"Not to mention incredibly boring," Beast Boy interrupted suddenly as he climbed to his feet.

His double glared at him. "What?," he sneered.

"Listening to you go on and on about yourself...You're putting me to sleep over here," he laughed. "Besides there's only room for one know-it-all on the team and I don't think you want to fight Robin for that spot."

The double narrowed his gaze. "Make all the wise cracks you want, but you know that I'm still better than you. I'm the better Beast Boy. Me! When it's all said and done it's me who-"

Loud, phony snoring noises silenced the double as Beast Boy pretended to fall asleep, closing his eyes and lolling his head off to one side.

"Stop it!" shouted the double.

"Hmm?" groaned Beast Boy, rubbing his eyes. "Did you say something? I'm sorry you're just so uninteresting."

"You're just a clown," the double spat. "You need me. That's why you let me in, remember? Because I was who you wanted to be."

At that last comment, Beast Boy's face turned serious. "Yeah," he said. "You're right. I did want to be you." Then he smiled. "Oh well. Everyone makes mistakes. Right?"

The double was fuming.

Beast Boy was slightly taken back when suddenly he saw his alternate self's eyes begin glowing a dark and terrible red. Out of nowhere, dark clouds suddenly began moving in over the grassy field casting a shadow over the entire area. Lighting cracked the sky and thunder boomed so loud it seemed to shake the ground. Without saying a word, the alternate him began to transform. Growing and growing he began towering overhead. He dropped down on all fours as his hands and feet grew deadly claws. Wings shot out from his back; his neck and face elongated and horns sprouted out the side of his head. His teeth became like daggers and his flesh became covered in scales until finally he stood before him a large and terrifying dragon. With his eyes still glowing red he cast his gaze down.

"Enough," he growled. "I am your better. You are nothing more than a clown," Then opening his jaws, he breathed deep and from out his mouth cast a raging inferno down upon his rival.

* * *

"I need to find out what we're dealing with," said Raven throwing on one of her blue cloaks over her black dress.

"What do you expect us to do?" said Cyborg, sounding slightly irritated. "Just sit here on our thumbs? His vitals are failing and he's not responding to anything. If we don't do something soon he's going to-"

"I know!" Raven shot suddenly. She then calmed herself. "I know that, but there's nothing you can do," she said, exiting the room. The words were painful but true. "I'll hurry back as soon as I can."

There was something, some outside force occupying Beast Boy's mind, and had no doubt been controlling his actions for some time. For what purpose Raven had no idea. Each attempt to enter his mind to expel the foreign contaminant was met with failure, exacerbated by the fact that there was no way to tell what exactly it was. The only thing she knew for certain was that whatever it was, was now very quickly killing him. It was after the third or fourth try to enter and expel the entity that she got an idea. Entering the young man's mind once more she made a bee line straight for his memories. Diving into the chaotic mess she struggled to sort through the noise to find only his most recent memories. Tracing back his steps through their date, the training exercise from before, him asking her out. Finally there was something strange. She saw him talking to himself in the mirror. His reflection seemed to have with a mind of its own. She felt his confusion and used it as a guide. Going back further she traced this event back, back through the days prior. Back. Back. Until like a beacon shining through the dark she was drawn to a specific event that seemed to be the starting point of the whole ordeal. She now knew where she needed to go for answers.

* * *

The bell rung sharply and then fell to the floor as the door to the old shop threw violently open, smashing against the wall, cracking the wood. With ice cold determination she marched up to the cracked and dirty glass counter at the end of the room just as the owner of the shop came bursting in through the dark purple curtains.

"What the blue freakin' hell on toast do you think you're doing, you stupid-" he didn't have time to finish.

Eyes glowing a brilliant and terrifying red, Raven conjured her dark energy, encompassed the counter and sent it skidding along the floor and out of her way, making a terrible grinding noise against the floorboards before colliding crudely with a stack of mounted medieval weapons.

Seeing the anger in the young woman, the little troll like owner's demeanor softened. "Now, now, take it easy," he said, putting a hand up defensively. "Whatever problem you're having with the merchandise we can work something out."

Without saying a word she seized the diminutive entrepreneur up in her dark energy and dragged him back into the warehouse like rear of the shop. Trying to recall each step from Beast Boy's memories she weaved her way through the piles of boxes and random junk, until finally she came to rest in front of an tall object obscured by a maroon colored sheet. Releasing her captive she let him drop awkwardly to his bulbous rear and then began walking toward the covered structure.

"Woah, woah, wait, don't touch that," said the store owner, suddenly realizing what was in front of them.

She did not stop. Despite his pleas, she ignored the squat store owner and grasped the sheet in both hands and pulled hard, revealing the mirror hidden underneath. She now stood before the reflective surface and yet it was strangely empty. It was indeed a mirror and yet her reflection was not there. Rather she saw only the piles of junk stacked behind her. She saw neither herself nor the stout Slaven who now cowered on his knees behind her, facing the opposite direction with his hands covering his head in a duck and cover fashion.

Seizing him once again in her dark energy she lifted him up off the ground and brought him face to face with the mirror. Peeling back his eyelids she forced him to look into the reflective surface, which was still just as empty as ever as before.

"You have some explaining to do, Slaven."

* * *

He should have been terrified. Seeing the fire erupting out of the monster's gaping mouth, he should have been running and screaming in horror, but instead he felt no fear. Clenching his fists, he stood his ground, defiantly.

In an alternate reality he saw her, standing there with him, holding his hand.

Then the fire struck.

But he felt no pain. In his head he could hear his alternate self saying that he wasn't a hero, he was just a clown. "No," he answered back. "You're wrong." In a brilliant flash of light the fire disappeared. The surprise was evident on his doppelgangers face. Standing tall he could feel new strength flowing through him. Concentrating, he felt himself grow heavier as brilliant golden armor spread over his chest and down his arms and legs. He felt the weight in his hands as a massive broad sword appeared in one hand and a sturdy shield in the other. He now stood as a knight before the dragon.

Actors and actresses often play more than one role in a single production.

Smirking at his foe, he now knew he was neither a hero nor a clown. He was both.


	12. Chapter 12

'Whoever he is...'

At the time it was all he could keep thinking to himself.

'Whatever he is...'

Over and over again like a prayer. The more he said it the more empowered he felt.

'...he is not Garfield Logan.'

The more he said it, the stronger he could feel his armor becoming, the sharper his sword, the sturdier his shield.

'He is not Beast Boy.'

The more he said it, the less fear he held for the snarling, snapping dragon, towering in front of him, the less he could feel the effect of its blows.

With a wave of its mighty claw, the beast tried to crush him flat, but a nimble leap back was all it took to avoid the strike and counter attack with a vertical sword slash, slicing the back of the its hand. The creature roared in agony as white light began pouring out of the open wound, leaping upward, fleeing up into the sky. It again attempted to incinerate him with its flame breath, breathing deep and expunging a raging inferno from deep within its belly, but once again it was a futile effort.

Crouching down the knight held his golden shield in front of him and watched as the fire splashed against its impenetrable surface shooting away to all sides, leaving him completely unharmed.

The beast roared in frustration.

"You could have had anything you wanted," it hissed. "Any woman you wanted. The entire depth of your imagination would have bended to your every will and all would have needed to do was stay where you were and let me live my life."

"It's my life," the knight answered. "And you're not going to run it anymore."

With that said he leapt into the air. Gravity bowed to him as he fled the earth below him and took flight, rising up, up, up, sword raised above his head, gripped tightly in his hands. Giving his own mighty roar he dove towards his foe and struck down upon him a fierce blow across his scaly face. He slashed again and again. With every fresh blow, more and more white light poured out of the creature. Flying skyward, the light began penetrating the dark storm clouds, peeling them back to reveal more and more blue sky. The beast tried in vain to fight back but every snap of its jaw, every swipe of its claws found only air or the firm, hard thud of the knight's shield. Finally with one final blow the dragon was finished. A deep wound was opened up in the dragon's chest stretching the full length of his body down to the beginning of his tail. There was an explosion as a sea of white bathed the battlefield. Then everything was quiet.

* * *

All he could see was white.

All he could hear was the tick, tick, ticking sound of a single grandfather clock that stood in the middle of the white, imposing as a monolith, tall as a skyscraper.

Suddenly grabbing at his chest, he looked down. The sword and shield were now gone, the golden armor as well. In its place was now simply his purple and black Doom Patrol uniform. Looking up he fixed his eyes on the clock. With presumably nowhere else to go he began navigating his way across the blank, white landscape, his feet making no sound as he walked.

There was no sound at all save for the the slow tick, tick, tick of the clock.

He continued walking until suddenly there was a clicking sound like that of a door being unlocked and suddenly the entire front of the clock began to slowly open. Like a door way to another world, it opened, wider and wider until it opened completely. And inside was Titan's Tower, standing tall and proud on the rocky beach of the little speck land in the middle of Jump City Bay. Home.

"It's over."

The voice was sudden. Whirling around sharply on his heels he turned and once again faced him, the alternate him, now no longer a dragon just a simple clone, staring down and to the right, almost seeming oblivious to everything around him, however minimal it may have been.

"It's all over," he said.

Beast Boy said nothing, simply stood on guard.

The double looked up. Their eyes met and suddenly his appearance began to change. His skin lightened, changing from green to a pale peach color, and his hair grew dark. His nose sharpened and his eyes changed from green to brown. His cloths changed as well. The black and purple Doom Patrol costume slowly became the black and green and brown of camouflage gear. He became taller and more muscular and he aged several years, becoming a man of about thirty.

But it didn't end there.

No sooner had he finished transforming when suddenly he was changing again. His eyes turned blue, his hair grew long and blonde, his body shrank and became sleeker, developing a feminine shape. The years he had just put on now peeled away until he became a young woman of about 21 wearing a long white gown.

"I've been doing this for far too long. I'm tired," she said.

Transforming again his skin darkened and his hair grayed.

"So many years, so many life times. One after the other, never feeling satisfied," he said now an old African American man. As he spoke he continued to transform. A middle aged man in a grey business suit. A young Latino woman in about her mid thirties. A dark haired man wearing 1920s work attire with an Irish accent. A full bearded Japanese man in a simple collared shirt. His body never dwelled on one form for too long.

"All these years," he said, now a redheaded girl of about 16. "And you were the first person I ever had to trick. I tried and tried, but when you were sleeping was the only time I could get any control. Your will. Your identity. Your sense of self. It was flawed, but it was just so strong. I knew the only way to get total control was for you to give it to me."

Then, suddenly, the transformations stopped. Now there stood a young boy of only about thirteen. His clothes were simple and clean, remnants of an era long since passed. He was scrawny, sickly thin, his skin was pale and his eyes were dark and his cheeks were sunken in. His hair was dirty and greasy. He looked like death.

"I was going to be great," he said. "So many things to do, so many things to see. There wasn't nothing in the whole world that woulda stopped me. But sometimes things don't turn out the way you want them to." The boy then looked down, his face sad and ashamed. "It don't excuse what I done, but I was just so mad ya know? I just wanted my chance. The one I never got." He looked up and once again he and Beast Boy made contact. Tears were forming at the corners of the young boy's eyes and he was quick to wipe them away. "It was only going to be one, I swear. But then I did it again. And again. And again. And I just kept doing it." Tears were now cascading down his cheeks staining them red. "It was wrong what I done. Just because I lost my chance, doesn't mean it was right to do the same to alla them. Or to you."

Beast Boy was speechless. If there was anything to say he couldn't think of it.

"But I'm done now," continued the boy. "Fightin' with you. It made me realize some things." There was notable fear in his voice mixed with a kind of confidence. Afraid of what would come next but ready to face it all the same. "I'm leaving. And this time I'm not coming back. But just promise me one thing." The boy's eyes became sincere and pleading. "Promise me you'll enjoy yourself while you can. Because you never know when it'll all be over."

Beast Boy smiled slightly, the bottom right corner of his mouth pulling up as he nodded in understanding. "No problem," he said. He hesitated for a moment and then offered his hand to the boy.

Looking at him straight, the boys dark circled eyes shimmered, his thin lips pulled back into his sunken cheeks and he smiled. He outstretched his own thin, boney hand and grasped Beast Boy's hand, shaking it. A gentlemen's hand shake between two individuals. No hard feelings between them.

* * *

Fuzz World.

Slowly his eyes cracked open. He blinked several times at the dark, blurry figures all around him and for a second he wondered if he were in yet another place conjured up in his mind. Then he heard someone call his name.

"Beast Boy?"

That voice calling out to him, like music to his ears.

His vision began to focus and soon he saw the familiar faces of his teammates hovering above him, looking just as concerned and worried as ever. Robin leaned in close to him and said, "Beast Boy, are you okay?" He turned back to the team. "He still looks out of it."

"How will we know that this is truly our Beast Boy?" asked Starfire.

Cyborg leaned in close to him. "Yo, B," he said, louder than necessary. "If you're really B then say something only Beast Boy would say."

He smiled weakly. It was the perfect setup. The lines were leaving his lips before he even realized he was speaking. "Something only Beast Boy would say," he said groggily.

The team's faces lit up and they all turned to one another.

"It's him," they all said.

* * *

He was nervous again, though he had to admit it wasn't nearly as bad as it had once been. Still having Raven standing over him as he lay in his hospital bed with her hands gently placed on his temples almost massaging them was enough to make his pulse quicken at least a little. After several minutes of keeping perfectly still she removed her hands and took a step back.

"Nope," she said aloud. "I can't find anything out of the ordinary. Your mind is completely clean. Relatively speaking."

He blushed embarrassed. "Thanks," he choked out. He then expected her to leave the room. Instead he was surprised to see her pull up a chair and take a seat beside him. Things were tense for a moment, but then he finally managed to ask the question that had been nagging him.

"So, what was it anyway?"

She looked at him deep in the eyes. She then broke contact for a moment before turning back and saying, "Well..."

Whenever someone dies in anger or frustration or regret, if ever someone in death feels cheated or betrayed, their soul will sometimes linger in this world, refusing to move on to the next. For some it's just a matter of coming to terms with what's happened. But still others try and do something about it. And sometimes they become what is known as a Possessor, a life taker. They steal bodies, assume identities. Sometimes it's to fulfill a purpose. Sometimes it's because they simply want another chance at life.

"From what I squeezed out of that snake, Slaven, he managed to trap one of these Possessor spirits in a mirror in his shop."

"What was he going to do with it?" asked Beast Boy.

Raven half smiled and arched an eyebrow expressing her disbelief at what she was going to say next. "He wanted to see if he could sell it."

"Sell it?"

Raven nodded. "That's Slaven for you."

"Huh."

"Anyway when you went exploring that day in his shop, all it must have took for the spirit to escape into your mind was one look into the mirror." She then looked at him and smirked. "And honestly when are you going to learn your lesson about mirrors?"

Beast Boy blushed remembering back to the time he and Cyborg stumbled upon Raven's meditation mirror and were both sucked into _her _mind. He chuckled nervously. "I'm sure it'll sink in someday."

Things became quiet.

"There's not a whole lot you can do about Possessors," said Raven suddenly. "You can maybe exorcise them, but you always run the risk of killing the host." Her tone became somber. "In your case, the Posessor was so tightly entwined with your soul there was nothing I could do." She paused for a moment and looked straight into his eyes. "Only a select few have been able to do what you've done, Beast Boy, exercise enough strength and willpower to force the Possessor out of your body."

Beast Boy could feel himself blushing.

"You should be very proud," she then added.

Again things became quiet.

"So what happened to Slaven?" asked Beast Boy after a while.

Raven smirked a devious smirk. "Well doing anything to renegade souls other than exorcising them is considered an act of evil and had I told anyone he would have been pursued by every mystic across dimensions and eventually executed. But I decided to let him off the hook just this once if he promised not to do it again."

Now it was Beast Boy's turn to smirk. He knew Raven well enough to know she was holding something back. "But," he said, implying that she continue.

"But," she continued. "I also decided he should go someplace for a while to think about what he'd done."

"Dimension of pure itching?"

She nodded. "Pure itching." Another silence came over the two and after a moment Raven got up from her chair. "Well," she said. "I'll let you get some rest."

Watching her leave, he realized where he was. Alone with her, laughing and talking. It occured to him that he would not and could not let her walk away from him again. At least not yet.

"Raven," he called out to her. He watched as she stopped and turned. He looked into her eyes and felt himself go numb. She was beautiful. "Do you think maybe you might, I don't know, want to go get some pizza with me next Friday? Maybe see a movie? You can choose."

Looking deep into Beast Boy's emerald eyes she gently probed his emotions. She tasted the salt of his apprehension mixed with something sweet, as a gentle warming sensation spread over her chest, far stronger than it had ever been before. Inwardly she smiled. It was a feeling so very familiar. She thought of her conversation with Cyborg. 'Just give him a chance.'

"Sure. That sounds fun. And you can pick the movie if you want."

He could hardly believe his pointed ears. He felt his whole body tingle with excitement and could already feel the proverbial weight lifting off his shoulders. "Grea-Great!" he babbled, almost shouting. "Ah-Bah- how about Wicked Scary 2: The Scarening?"

She smiled at him, her own small, almost invisible Raven smile. "It's a date."

After she'd gone and he was once again alone, still sitting he reached under the mattress of his bed and gripped the item he had quickly stashed there when he heard her come in. There had probably been no need to hide it, but he'd be lying if he said he still wasn't worried about looking weird in front of her. With his sketchpad once again in his hands he flipped through the pages until he came upon the piece he'd been working on before she'd arrived. The piece that was nearly finished. Running his fingers over the page he studied the picture before him. With little else to do in bed, all his time and energy had gone into it. Certainly it had its flaws, but that failed to bother him anymore.

Smiling at the drawing, the man in the drawing smiled back at him. Beast Boy in full color, reflecting Beast Boy in black and white. A self portrait capturing him, the way he was at this exact moment. Beast Boy as Beast Boy.

Konstantin Stanislavsky, the inventor of Method Acting, taught his students to "live their parts." He also presumably was the one who coined the phrase "There are no small roles, just small actors." Everyone has their place, their role. But whatever that is, can only be what you make of it. Become your role and make it something special. From that day on Beast Boy knew there was only one person he wanted to be.

Cue the rest of his life.

* * *

_Several years later._

What he felt wasn't nerves. Not exactly. But still, it wasn't like he ever fully stopped concerning himself with what his wife thought of him. As she lay against his chest in their king sized bed, reading her book, he stroked her long violet hair, took a deep breath and asked the question he'd been wanting to ask for a long time.

"Hey Rave," he said.

"Hmm?" she droned, half paying attention.

"Do you remember that guy, what's-his-name?"

"Who?"

"You know. That friend of yours. I met him on that day where you first took me to the mystic marketplace and we had that big fight. The guy with the long white hair."

"Darion?"

"Yeah, that's him. I was wondering. At the time I figured he was the kind of guy you'd really go for. And if everything hadn't happened, if I never asked you out, do you think you'd have, I don't know, ended up with him?"

"You're asking me this now?"

"It's just something I've been wondering. If I wasn't in the picture would you have ended up with him instead?"

She was quiet for a moment as she thought. Finally she shook her head. "No, I don't think so."

"Really?"

"Yes."

A great relief washed over him.

"Besides," she continued. "I doubt I could have wrestled him away from his husband."

**End**

_The thing that is really hard, and really amazing is giving up on being perfect and beginning the work of becoming youself._ - Anna Quindlen

* * *

_A/N: And thus we reach the end of another fanfic. I hope you all enjoyed and more importantly I hope this piece, at least in a small way, meant something to you._

_Thanks to everyone for reading and thank you for all the kind words._

_-Sir Alwick_


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